


star love

by heibai



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, Time Skips, but this story is HEAVY ANGST BABEY, fate brings them together, it's set in christmas time but it doesn't feel like so, possible TW: emotional cheating, possible TW: forced marriage, possible TW: the reality of having to be a filial son, prompter asked for no heavy angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:48:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23679415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heibai/pseuds/heibai
Summary: Renjun and Jeno were given a curse.To have their lives intersect on Christmas Eve once every three years.Renjun sees it as an irony. Jeno agrees.(Because he can’t let Renjun know that he sees it as a blessing.)
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno
Comments: 18
Kudos: 78
Collections: noren fic fest round 1





	1. 03 ; 06

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Nietzsche wrote_   
>  _that some estranged friends may become declared enemies but in some mysterious way continue to remain friends, though in a totally different sphere._   
>  _He called these **star friendships.**_
> 
> _― Aciman. A, Enigma Variations_

**\- Year 3 -**

.

It won’t be an exaggeration for Renjun to say that he hates Christmas.

A time for joy? A time for festivities?

Try a time for singing the same fucking songs, over and over again until his throat, ears, and brain started to bleed. 

That was him, then. Sitting in the front of a cafe in the middle of the biting winter sun as he waited for his next gig. Wasting his time by smoking and losing his mind to the drone of holiday festivities while dreading for what was yet to come. Singing the same five saccharine sweet songs to human-like automatons at a bougie shopping center, as he people watched mothers do their last minute Christmas shopping with impatience jingling out of their ears. 

“Excuse me.” 

Renjun knew he was hogging a quarter of the side entrance with his legs being all akimbo in indifference. And although he also  _ knew _ that the stranger could so easily just squeeze themselves through his non-intrusive foot, he still went out of his way to cross his legs to allow the high maintenance rich bitch to walk past him without any minor hassles. It’s Christmas Eve. Gotta be nice and good and whatever.

But not long after, the same voice came through his hazy brain with the same exact words.

“Excuse me.”

It was only then that Renjun looked away from his phone, at first with the goal to berate said stranger with a scathing  _ what?!  _

Though the moment he saw the face of the person who owned said voice, his was reaped clean out of his throat. 

“... Jeno?”

An irrefutable confirmation for a suspicion caused the person’s face to shine like a glint of sun against morning snow, and he, who turned out to not be much of a stranger after all, sat down opposite Renjun so enthusiastically he nearly toppled the portable heater that was standing right behind his wooden chair. 

“It’s been so long! How are you?!”

Renjun wrenched a smile as he nervously put out his cigarette against the already crowded lid of his coffee cup. “I’m great, I’m great. How are you?”

He hasn’t aged a day since the last time Renjun saw him. Still with the sleek fashion and clean cut hair. If not for the fact that he exchanged his hand-me-downs tortoiseshell glasses for contacts, Renjun would’ve said that he hasn’t changed  _ at all. _

Three years ago. To this day. 

“I’m amazing. What are you doing here? I thought you’re in Busan for the weekend?” 

Renjun nearly choked on the sip of coffee he took. “N,- no! No, the show was scrapped. So I decided to go back.”

He wanted to tease him.  _ So you’re stalking my Instagram, huh?  _ But the words escaped him, when he saw Jeno pick up the butt of his half finished cigarette before he tutted at him with an ease he shouldn’t have had. 

“I thought you would’ve quit this already.”

It was an ease that should only be allowed for people who didn’t abandon him when his world crashed catastrophically around him. How dare he? Three years they haven’t spoken. Three years. And Jeno thought he could speak to him like this?

“Well, I have my reasons.”

And one of his reasons was laughing at him. Jeno leaned back on his seat and watched him with a look that he shouldn’t have. It’s a look reserved only for friends, for loved ones, for people that are trusted and close and familiar. 

The fact that they’ve known each other for five years, dare he said,  _ intimately  _ before their estrangement should not be taken into account. 

Jeno studied his face long past the point of comfort before he finally spoke. “You haven’t changed.”

“You haven’t too.” Renjun parroted him.

“Waiting to do a gig?”

Renjun smiled, bitterly, into his coffee. “You know me too well.”

He let the conversation drop, and in turn, forced himself to match up with Jeno’s all encompassing gaze. What did he see? What did he want? His eyes were taken to Jeno’s hands that were folded neatly on his lap, while Renjun’s were gripping the arms of his chair so harshly the bed of his nails were turning white. The sight made his stomach churn. 

So similar, yet so different. And his nonchalance made Renjun feel so bad, so  _ dirty _ for how devastated he was. 

His smile, so casual, so light, hanging on his face with so much kindness, so much  _ unsolicited  _ kindness that Renjun began to compulsively worry on his bottom lip.

_ What did he want? _

A sharp winter breeze blew and it nearly sent Jeno’s coffee receipt flying to the air. It proved to be the catalyst for the start of their next exchange. 

“What time will you start?” Jeno asked, the rickety wooden folded chair creaked under his weight when he leaned forward with interest. 

Renjun, with much difficulty and much bile swallowing, matched Jeno’s movement so he was sitting at the far edge of his seat. 

“Around two. At the mezzanine.”

Jeno smiled again. The ones that made his eyes disappear. And Renjun bit onto his lower lip so hard he could taste blood. 

“You’ll be amazing.”

“Come.” Renjun found himself blurting his wish, even if he knew it wasn’t his part to do so. But the words flew out of him so quickly Renjun failed to hold onto the reins that could pull them back in. “Stay for a song or two.”

There was surprise on his face. Pleasant surprise. As if he was waiting for Renjun to ask him that. But just like how sudden he reappeared to his life, Jeno disappeared out of it when he began to fiddle with the ring that bound his left ring finger. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I have an appointment to catch.”

_ What did he want? _

“Who is she?” Renjun said, again, surprising Jeno so much so that he let out a pleasant chuckle.

“You don’t know her.”

Of course. 

Such a simple answer was the one that finally lit his patience on fire, and the ashes have begun to rain down on him when Jeno defeated him on getting to his feet to bid a farewell.

The difference was that he was much more civilised. Renjun would’ve dumped the rest of his coffee on his expensive coat and spat on his face, whereas Jeno said his goodbye with the same damn smile still printed over his lips.

“Nice meeting you again,” he said, as he picked up the paper bag of takeaway coffee and pastries that he would’ve then shared with his  _ fiance _ , “and Merry Christmas.”

Renjun only responded with a silent nod.

Jeno hasn’t exactly vanished from his sight when he already rummaged through the nearly empty box of cigarettes. Numb, shaky fingers struggling to light one on before he could finally take a liberating inhale that rattled his lungs.

_ What did he want?  _ Renjun asked himself. His elbows dug into the dirty surface of the cafe’s glass table while his fingers raked and pulled on his hair in frustration. So disturbed was he that he didn’t even realise he had a living ember standing so closely to his hair. 

Lit himself on fire, for all he cared. For all the shit that Jeno’s disturbed from the bottom of his polluted heart. 

_ Why did he have to do that? _ Renjun wondered. Why did he have to say hi, and show his face, and sit in front of him, and smile at him, and ask him for details about his life, and show that he cared, and  _ flaunt his engagement ring. _

Renjun banged his fist onto the table so harshly his coffee cup toppled over. It began to drip onto his jeans when his next banging turned it into a waterfall. 

He’s learned to forget him. He’s learned to erase his memory from his diseased brain. But three years of hard work was destroyed with a ten minute mindless interaction. And Renjun hated him for  _ making  _ it to be something so mindless, and simple, and casual. Because it implied that  _ he _ was the only one affected with their separation. With Jeno, abandoning him on that exact day three years ago, because why?

Because he didn’t want to have a civilised lunch with Renjun’s family, even if he told him that they could disguise themselves as  _ friends.  _

As friends.

What did he say when Renjun offered that they instead go as a couple?

_ “I can’t.”  _ And off he went. Disappeared to the night like a dad who said that he was only going out for milk but still hasn’t returned twenty years later.

_ ‘Well, at least he wished me Merry Christmas this time around,’  _ he thought bitterly. 

Renjun took another long drag of his cigarette. 

The smoke stung his eyes and caused it to water.

“Maybe this is why I hate Christmas.” He whispered to himself. Renjun pressed the palm of his hand onto his eyes because it was starting to sting  _ real bad,  _ and was greeted by a cup of water, overflowing. Just like his cup of coffee, that’s drenched the left leg of his jeans so badly they’re dyed brown. 

_ “Maybe he is why I hate Christmas.” _

* * *

**\- Year 6 -**

.

Jeno saw him when he was picking up some last minute grocery for Yoobin’s Christmas dinner. 

Renjun. Far over at the fresh produce aisle, laughing animatedly with a stranger and cajoling him to put a full bouquet of cauliflower inside their basket that was already full with knicks and knacks for what must be their Christmas Eve banquet. 

Wasn’t it three years ago to this day that he last saw him? 

Three years since his attempt of rebuilding a bridge of relations, however flimsy it was, ended in a disaster of banged up coffee cups and tattered pastries. 

_ Did this bag get into a car accident?  _ He remembered Yoobin asking when she saw the wreckage of whatever was left from her tea time spread. 

_ No,  _ he answered,  _ my hands slipped. It fell down the stairs.  _

His hands didn’t slip. He threw the bag against a wall somewhere at the back alley of their shared apartment building. 

Jeno decided not to greet him. Especially not after what happened. Three years ago, and two years afterwards. He couldn’t afford to let himself slip from the precarious walk he was taking across this tightrope he’s so comfortably called life, so Jeno quickly took the jar of marmalade from the rack and turned his back to someone who’s better suited to be a stranger in his life.

Everything was going smoothly, when he heard a familiar voice, saying a familiar word, coming from a direction no such sound should ever come.

“Jeno!”

He had no other choice, didn’t he? Run away and he would crumble the ashen bridges to nothing. 

That would be preferable. Yes.

But did he want that?

No. Never.

“Oh,- hey!!” He thought he feigned his shock well enough. But turns out, he didn’t have to fake it for much longer because he let out a genuine gasp of surprise when Renjun unexpectedly pulled him into a tight hug that came out of nowhere. 

“What are the odds! Doing some last minute Christmas dinner run?” Renjun asked, eyes beaming and cheeks still flushing from the cold outside. It really must’ve been a run for him. A dash in and a dash out, no care for anything else in between. Exactly how he was in his life right now.

Renjun looked one hundred and eighty degrees different from the vision of darkness and depression from three years ago and it sent a jolt of pain straight to the epicentre of his being. 

It took him all his good will to raise up the measly jar of marmalade with a simple shrug. “For the roast.”

“Of course, for the roast.” Renjun then used his elbow to give the stranger on his left a light nudge. “See? Christmas roast! You promised me a roast, didn’t you?”

A stranger. Who was he kidding? 

Jeno didn’t need Renjun’s customary introduction to learn of this stranger’s name. Jeno knew full well of who he was from his faithful spot in each and every social media post that Renjun made. Even if they didn’t meet today, he would still know  _ who he was.  _

“Mark. Nice meeting you.” The man offered his hand and Jeno answered with civility he hoped was well trained enough that it won’t betray the hurricane roaring within his heart.

A civility he’s so carefully maintained for the last six years. Only ever disturbed once, twice now, on a day where happiness was all but promised. 

What are the odds?

“I heard you’ve tied the knot.” It was then his turn to be at the receiving end of Renjun’s playful nudge. “Congratulations!”

Jeno could feel heat crawling onto his face in record speed, and quickly adopted the act of bashful embarrassment to hide the fact that it was shame that caused him to flush. Shame, and anger, and confusion.

Confusion? Of what?

He didn’t even know. 

“That’s so great! How’s marriage life treating you?” Mark joined the conversation and Jeno hoped, with all the power stored inside his weak heart, that he would just shut his pretty mouth and get lost. 

But he couldn’t do that, could he? So he only did the only thing he does best. Salt the ground he lived on so severely nothing could ever grow on it again.

“We’re expecting.” 

He didn’t know what he was hoping. 

He didn’t know what he wanted to see develop on Renjun’s face after he dropped the bomb to unnecessarily decimate their already barren and scarce interactions.

What he did know was that he didn’t want to see Renjun’s excited smile to mellow out into something so… genuine and happy it drove a nail through his throat. The next time he inhaled, he felt like he was drowning. 

Renjun placed a hand on his arm. The smile on his face has never looked more sincere. A sight so rarely seen, even when they were still together. “I’m so happy for you.”

Jeno couldn’t clearly remember how their brief meeting ended. Maybe he wished Renjun another Merry Christmas. Maybe he jokingly wished Renjun luck to be the next one forging a life of domesticity. Whatever it was, his memory was only a blur of taking another jar of marmalade because he promised Yoobin that he would bring home  _ at least  _ one jar. 

The other? Nobody needed to know what happened with the other.

As he blankly looked at the glistening golden nectar oozing down the dirty wall of the supermarket’s back alley, Jeno finally understood. The reason why he did it, why he told Renjun everything. 

It was because he wanted to enact a certain response out of him.

_ He didn’t invite me to his wedding!  _ He imagined Renjun ratting him off to his newest beau on their way home. A cigarette dangling between his fingers.  _ Me! He invited our highschool teachers, but not me. His amicable ex.  _

Which would be a good thing. He hoped that Renjun was angry. He  _ wanted  _ Renjun to be angry. Because with anger, at least Jeno would feel… less guilty for his mistreatment towards the only person who’s ever fully known him, devils and all.

Acceptance made him to be the villain. Anger? Renjun’s anger placates him. 

But, the fact that warmth was spreading up from his chest from seeing the sun once again shining from beneath Renjun’s eyes, much to the regret of the pounding pain on his left arm, felt like worms that were eating holes in his self-preserving selfishness. 

Because who was he to Renjun now? Who was he that Renjun’s emotional state was to hang around his life? He’s a  _ Nobody. _ Nobody. A nobody.

His nails dug into the palm of his hand and it served as a key to unlock the fog of malicious spell that’d been inflicting him since the time he saw Renjun’s joy that was directed to someone else that wasn’t him. 

“It’s been six years.” The words flowed out of him but Jeno didn’t even realise that it was he who said it. His voice, so devoid of emotion, not even when the pain of his nails were starting to climb up his arms and awaken them from their numb stupor. “Six years and a wedding…” 

And a child coming his way at a speed he didn’t know was possible. 

Why would anything of his life still affect Renjun’s? It didn’t make any sense, he knew that. His sense of rationality knew that. 

But of course, there was  _ always  _ a reason. It was why he muted Renjun in all of his social media, and why he still hate-checked him from time to time even if it destroyed him to do so. Because he couldn’t admit that the vice versa was happening to him. Why would anything of Renjun’s life still affect his? 

He knew. He knew it didn’t make sense. 

Just like how the world decided that a reminder of his sin should always come back around on Christmas Eve, out of all days in a year. 

_ Maybe this is karma,  _ he thought.  _ Karma for hurting someone I love on such a sacred day.  _

But what else could he do? He could do nothing but to sew his mouth shut, and follow the road set up on him by the institution that’s existed long before the  _ idea  _ of him ever was. 

He was starting to palm the spare jar of marmalade inside his coat pocket and Jeno knew it was time to move on. Leave the sticky mess of quickly freezing jam behind and wash his hands free of it, at least until fate brought them back together to punish him of his past misdeeds.

_ If  _ this was fate, that is. 

He has thirty minutes of his walk home to calm the storm that was awakened by such a brief encounter. Three years of calm, thrashed about with just five minutes of chit chat. When will they ever meet again? 

He wasn’t one to pray, but he prayed that it wouldn’t be tomorrow, or a week, or even a year later. Because if it was, Jeno didn’t think that he would be able to hold on to his sanity. Give him five, give him six years. Let them meet again with toddlers trailing around the tail of their winter coats. 

Then, and only then, would he be able to see into Renjun’s eyes with no urge to search for more of what he thought they deserved. 

Jeno took one step to walk out of the alley and a piece of the broken marmalade’s jar crunched beneath his shoes. 

Jeno understood fully why he did what he did. On this day today, and on this day three years ago. 

He wanted to see if, selfishly, terrifyingly, Renjun still wasn’t able to let him go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEA BABEY IM ON A ROLL BABEY!!  
> Honestly I wouldn't have imagined being able to write ... 30...k? in two and a half weeks? while I'm working?  
> like its what dreams are made of ;;;;;
> 
> So once again I want to thank [noren 2020 ficfest](https://twitter.com/norenficfest) for putting a fire under my bum and pushing me to write so many in such a short time.
> 
> This time, I chose **prompt number 23** that goes something like this: "Renjun and Jeno keeps meeting in a world where ex(es) who are still single will meet each other every three years on Christmas day. And I DO NOT want heavy angst."  
> you'll see several DEVIATION in this story because well... :))) my brain took the prompt and ran away with it.
> 
> [update 27/04/2020] I changed the rating from T to M because.. i just now think that the story /is/ quite heavy and filled to the brim with mature topics so I think a T rating doesn't really fit it... Thank you @MRJDJCJ7DNCT for giving me the moment of truth LOL  
> but sadly, the only sex scene in this story is a cut to black so you know the M means /mature/ mature :D
> 
> pps: I chose this prompt because the idea of it brought so much angsty romanticism energy to my heart and it was only five minutes later, when I said to myself 'damn this prompt gives me such an Andre Aciman vibe' that i realised it's essentially that one chapter from Enigma Variations l m a o :))  
> so as tribute, i titled this story after the chapter title from the book. 
> 
> pps: hmu @ my twitter [@moon__soil](https://twitter.com/moon__soil) ~


	2. 09 ; 12

**\- Year 9 -**

.

Renjun has been a lot of things in life. He’s been a kid, of course. A student, a grocery bagger, a kid’s birthday MC, a kid’s birthday _clown,_ a babysitter, a tutor, a barista, a band singer, a _wedding_ singer, and nowadays, an event organiser. 

But one thing he’s never been, was a ghost. 

Not even when his highschool class decided on making a haunted house during their eleventh grade’s school festival.

But Renjun felt like he was unknowingly turned into a ghost when during one of his jobs of turning a corporate’s town hall into a scene befitting to pop from the pages of _a_ _Christmas Carol,_ some poor chap locked their gaze onto his and all blood was drained from their already fair face. 

Something that surely would’ve happened if they just saw a ghost. 

And who was he trying to kid? A poor chap? 

How could he talk about his dear, _I’ve always met him on Christmas Eve in three years increments for three times in a row,_ jerkass of an ex boyfriend, Lee Jeno, as if he was a stranger. 

Actually, no. Actually, he has buried his ass so far into the scale of _Stranger_ that he’d somehow completed a 360 degrees loop, like a topsy turvy mobius strip, and pop his sorry head over at the _Little Shit_ quotient. 

Maybe it was the nine years time jump, and two years since the last time that Renjun’s spent the night crying over the fact that _Lee fucking Jeno has had a kid with someone who isn’t me_ or a similarly themed pity slumber party. But this time, when he saw Jeno once again, this weirdass, arrogant, corporate slave of a man with his faded light blue shirt scrunched up to his elbows and loosened tacky silk tie, _and that goddamned tortoiseshell glasses back on his dastardly large nose,_ Renjun didn’t find in him the urge to run away. 

No. Instead, Renjun ran _towards him,_ and gave his arm a firm punch. 

“What the _fuck_ are you doing here, huh?!” 

Renjun was all smiles. All laughters. And he guessed his _genuine_ (genuine, this time), joy successfully rubbed off onto Jeno because he huffed a strained breath and joined him in laughter. Awkward on his part, yes. But a laughter still. 

“I work here!” Jeno said, matter of factly. As if it’s the most known fact to humans, as if he was saying the earth is round, and that water is wet. _I work here!_

The words flowed out of his mouth with such ease Renjun envied them.

“I know that, but why are you _here_ here,” he motioned to the hall around them. Late on a Friday night, filled only with the painful humdrum that was the life of event decorators. Jeno didn’t belong there. Jeno belonged in a nice house, eating a warm meal. Early night because he has to accomodate for his family's excitement come Christmas morning. Not _there,_ stuck pumping balloons with pressurised air and sticking them in a half circle formation at the back of the stage with three other sleep deprived, college-aged part time workers. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be a hotshot manager or some shit?”

Jeno laughed at that. Freely, this time. “I just moved here.”

“Ah… a newbie’s burden?”

“Spot on.”

Easy. It was so easy. Like rain has fallen and washed away the grime from the windows and for once, just this once, Renjun could clearly see. Him. There. 

He was just another human being.

When Jeno touched his arm, when he asked him, “do you want to go to the convenience store? I really need to get some coffee,” and his fingers landed on the stretch of skin between the band of his watch and the cuff of his sweater, there was a spark. For one reason of not wanting to burden their interaction with unnecessary fluff, Renjun decided to not bring attention to it. 

What’s funny was, neither did Jeno.

“Yes, I think I’ll also get some for my team too, please. They’ve been at it for a while now.”

Jeno met his eyes with an absentminded fuzz, after it seemed that he was done inspecting the joints of his finger, for some indiscernible reason. “Of course. Of course, we can get them some midnight snack too.”

It was only later, far, far later, when he’d snuggled under the cover beside his already sleeping boyfriend, that Renjun realised. 

He was looking for a ring. 

  
  


_

They were sitting under the plastic awning of a nearby convenience store. Jeno holding two cups of steaming coffee and him carrying a bunch of snacks and soda for his team’s much earned break.

Renjun wasn’t planning to fool around on the frigid winter night. But what happened was, just when he was about to step one foot onto the muddy asphalt, courtesy to last night’s surprise snowfall, Jeno called him back and motioned for them to sit down at the plastic picnic benches. “Just for a while,” he said. 

“Thought you’re far too posh for this kinda thing.” Renjun grunted while carefully arranging the assortments of snacks on the corner of the table. 

To that, Jeno let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m still human.” 

He then rummaged through the inner lining of his coat, and produced two sticks of cigarettes. It was ( _coincidentally_ , Renjun found himself praying) the brand that Renjun loves. 

“So this is _also_ your vice?” He said, not saying no to a chance of sharing a smoke with mister _‘your body is a temple’_ Jeno even if he’d gone clean for the last year or so. 

“Not everyday. Barely once a month.” Jeno took that first inhale with a hiss. He really wasn’t used to this, and it caused an odd smile to sprout on Renjun’s face.

“Then why do you have it in your pocket?” He asked, in the middle of a knowing giggle.

Jeno let the question go unanswered, and in a rare streak of mercy, Renjun let it pass. It was a sufficient explanation anyway. His silence. More confirmation than enough to Renjun’s speculation. 

He only took it out of his emergency stash inside his bag because he wanted to share this moment with Renjun. 

“Hey, how’s Harin?” 

Jeno let out a flurry of coughs after hearing the question that, to his credit, came like a sucker punch that hit him from left field. 

To his defense (to his constant defense, he told himself everytime he obsessively scroll down Jeno’s Instagram), Jeno stalked him first. Who was he to think that Renjun couldn’t do the same? And to be fair, Jeno, this person who so rarely posted anything to social media, wouldn’t stop bombarding the timeline with pictures of his baby girl. She’s adorable, Renjun has to admit, but still.

But _still…_

Renjun giggled and gave his back a few firm pats while Jeno waved his hand around, acting like he was begrudgingly blaming the cigarette smoke for his condition. 

As he did before, so he did again. Renjun let this blatant attempt at evasion pass. Allowing Jeno to come down on his own time and open up on his own term.

He was too nice that night. Renjun knew that. Yet he found himself not willing to do it any other way. 

“She’s amazing.” Jeno said, when he finally could. 

“She’s two, isn’t she?”

He nodded to the crackling sound of his inhale. “Uh huh.”

Jeno let his half finished cigarette drop to the ground so he could take out his phone from his shirt’s front pocket. Renjun couldn’t help but laugh at that… peculiar placement of a phone. He truly was turning into what their eighteen year old selves would call a _capitalist nightmare._

He beamed when he went and showed Renjun the photos carefully stored inside folders separated by the seasons. “This is her at the park, and, and this is her with her favourite book.”

Renjun went closer to him, huddling under his brightness because perhaps it was the first time he’s seen Jeno genuinely bloom in his presence since… oh, since ages. He caught the smile on Jeno’s face when he was explaining how he was there to capture her first step and it put so much warmth inside his heart he never noticed they were frozen before. 

“She loves to paint.” He went on, taking a glance at Renjun when he showed him a spread of red and yellow blob, “just like you.” 

His smile faltered a bit. But his eyes still sought Renjun's approval so harshly he found himself glued on his spot. Jeno was probably thinking that he’s gone too far. 

Perhaps he did. 

Because no matter the amount of time that’s passed, Renjun still felt that painful jolt that crawled from the deepest depth of his stomach after he heard Jeno saying such an intimate statement. _Just like me, huh?_ He bit his lips in order to maintain the easy smile that he has, as he could feel an angry grimace lingering close by, just waiting impatiently in line. 

Because unlike him, when Renjun wants to build a bridge to reconnect their islands, he does so with grace. And subtlety. And mercy. And kindness. 

For the third time that night, He relented and gave Jeno what he wanted on a shining silver platter. 

“She’ll grow to be the most beautiful girl.” 

The white puff of his gladness couldn’t be anymore pronounced. 

_This lucky bastard…_

“Don’t you think it’s hilarious?” He spoke next while digging the heels of his steel tipped boots into the frosted gravels. As if he was hoping that by doing so, the uncaring earth would lend him, even if it was just a little bit, some bravery to subject Jeno with his very first mean streak of the night.

Jeno returned his question with one of his own. One that was said in such a way it made Renjun instantly knew that he was checking the temperature. “Hilarious how?” 

“The timing of our meetings. Every three years. On a Christmas Eve.”

_On the night that just nine years ago you dumped me like how a child dump a toy they’ve grown tired of playing._

Renjun has his own opinion regarding their situation, so he said as much. “Don’t you think it’s kinda ironic? I think it is ironic.”

And his opinion, as per usual, rendered Jeno silent.

He must’ve regretted his decision of throwing away his cigarette earlier, huh? Because now he didn’t have an excuse to hang his silence on. A behavioural lie he could give others as he pretended to rack his brain for a proper answer. Not right, not wrong, but _proper._

He shouldn't have bothered. Because Renjun could see, by the changes of the harshness of his eyes, by how he leaned forward and hid his mouth between his clasped hands, by how he bounced his legs, three times against the floor, and by how he let out a strained chuckle, one he always does when he’s having a privy joke with himself, that he’s had his answer from the very first second of Renjun’s questioning. 

“Yeah. I think it’s ironic.”

Which is why he knew that Jeno often has to lie.

Because the truth?

The truth is _never_ proper. 

“You didn’t make this happen, did you?” Jeno asked, with an accompanying nudge on Renjun’s arm. 

To that, Renjun couldn’t laugh any harder. Any harder, and there would be tears in his eyes. He didn’t want to give away where he was standing in this precarious quicksand so he swiftly jumped up to his feet and scooped the snacks back to the safety of his arms. “To willingly work with this company? You’d think of me as a mad man.”

He’d just taken three steps towards his client’s office tower when he felt a wet, globular item hitting and dispersing against his back. It caused a fine shower of grey slurry to run down his pathetic windbreaker. 

“How… _dare you.”_ His response to Jeno’s unforeseen and uninvited childishness started off as a low growl.

By the time he was yelling his profanity-laden protests, Jeno had jogged towards him and pulled him close by his shoulders to an easy hug. 

But a hug by Jeno shall never be easy. Especially for Renjun. It can’t ever be easy. Not anymore.

“Ooh Injun, you’re always so quick to anger.”

In a moment of weakness he knew he’d regret for months to come, Renjun rested his cheek on Jeno’s shoulder. “Nobody’s called me that for nearly a decade.”

He could feel Jeno’s chest rattling by a mixture of laughter and coughs. 

“Well then, Merry Christmas, _Injun.”_ In a split second where it seemed that he didn’t care for things that in the future would be considered as mistakes, Jeno went and pulled him in even closer. The heat of his palm burned through his arms as Jeno whispered into his hair. 

_“Merry Christmas.”_

  
  


* * *

**\- Year 12 -**

.

Jeno couldn’t afford a meeting with Renjun this year, because they gave him doubts. 

And at this point in his life, he _couldn’t_ be having doubts.

So he took his family on a long overdue winter holiday to a tropical island so far away from their home country and prayed that fate (because once is a coincidence, twice is luck, and three times’ a magic) won’t reach him that far away from ground zero.

Oh, who was he trying to kid?

He should’ve known that he can’t defeat the will of the universe.

Their eyes met across the pool bar on a drowsy Monday morning and Renjun smiled into his drink so deeply he came out of it flushed. 

Jeno too, flushed. Before, during, and after he managed to calm the beating of war drums within his chest. But he could easily lie that it was caused by the UV rays beaming straight onto his pale skin that rarely saw the sun. And he planned to. When Renjun approached him in a lazy paddle and prodded him with a cheeky grin that screamed of, _‘isn’t this ironic?’,_ he really _did_ plan to. 

But that was before Harin cannonballed into the pool with her inflatable armbands and ruined the atmosphere that Jeno _dreaded,_ yes, but for some peculiar reason, he also _craved._

“Pa! Look! _Loooooooook!!!”_ She splashed about the deep edge of the pool, as the kid clearly has _no_ sense of self preservation, much to Jeno’s distress, paddling to and fro like a pancake fueled water mill. 

It caused Renjun to open up their conversation with a sentence so different from what he must’ve originally had in mind. Or at least Jeno hoped it was. 

“She’s a riot.”

He smelled of sun screen. Of sweat and a lazy night where he didn’t bother to brush his hair came the next morning. He imagined his fingers running through the windswept hair and buried his nails deep into his palm instead. “As I said, she reminds me of you.”

Renjun’s laughter was as bright as the morning of that tropical island. As yellow as the fresh glass of mimosa he had on his hand. So free, and light, and _happy_ that it caused his heart to soar so highly he could taste its beatings at the back of his throat. 

“What brought you here?” Renjun asked.

“Holiday. What about you?”

He took a sip of his drink and it just barely hid his amusement, “same.”

His behaviour, his… _very odd_ behaviour allowed Jeno to take a glimpse to what was actually hiding beneath that crooked smile. 

And Jeno’s deduction, after eliminating all that was impossible, was this: Renjun’s decision to go to this place was _also_ taken based on the desire to avoid meeting him. 

This gigglish… smug front that he was putting on was actually a challenge to the universe. Like, _‘is that all you’ve got?!’_ kind of taunting, done with every deep, throaty, secretive laughter he kept sharing with himself. 

His speculation was all but confirmed when Renjun went to place his glass on the in-pool bar with so much force Jeno was sure it caused hairline cracks to travel up the skinny stem. 

_It’s been twelve years,_ he bitterly reminisced, _and still he hasn’t changed._

It only took him a second of misplaced daydreaming for Renjun to escape his watch. It also only took him a second of misplaced attention to _misplace_ Harin. 

Thankfully, or _apparently,_ he quickly learned, two points of chaos in his universe attract each other. He only needed to follow the sound of his daughter’s joyful squeals to find the two of them competing on who could splash each others’ faces with more water at the far corner of the pool.

“Look, kid,-! I just want to help fix your swimming aid!” Renjun struggled to speak in between gobbling through walls of water sent to him by Harin’s flapping arms. 

“IT’S NOT A SWIMMING AID IT’S MY ARM BALLOONS!!” She shrieked in return, not relenting in milling her arms around in what seemed to be perpetual motion. 

She only somewhat calmed down when Jeno placed a hand on her tangled hair, “Harin, let’s stop for a second.” She quieted down into a pout as she squirmed against Jeno’s effort of properly pulling her armbands up to their proper position. 

“But Pa, this fire nation soldier won’t just terminate himself.”

Renjun leaned to him and whispered. “What do you teach her and how can Yoobin let this pass.”

“Excuse me? It’s all _her_ fault that she turns out like this.” Jeno whispered back. 

They exchanged a knowing glance and broke off in a laughter so heavy in its camaraderie Jeno swore he’d begun sinking into the cold water as he spoke next.

“This fire nation soldier is Pa’s friend. So you have to let him live.”

“Oh. So is he like Zuko?”

Renjun puffed up his chest, sucked up his already (and _still,_ Jeno’s envious of that) nonexistent belly and pompously said, “exactly! Like Zuko!” Then he leaned low, and engaged Harin in a comical stage whisper, “is your dad, ya know… a Sokka?”

Harin, bless this child, rolled her eyes so dramatically in response. “He’s _totally_ a Sokka.” 

“Oh come _on_ now. We’ve talked about this! Pa is Aang, right?”

“Pfft.” Renjun dared _pfft_ him. And on top of that, he splashed a cup of water onto Jeno’s face and joined Harin on a round of pleased giggles. “Own up to your _totally Sokka-ness_ won’t you?”

His glasses a goner, Jeno took it off with a huff and set it aside at the nearby pool float. Jeno was just about to retort with a witty remark when he found out that Renjun, who by then was already gleaming like the core of a solar system in his eyes, was still able to shine even brighter than ever before. Maybe it was his blurry vision, or perhaps it was the heat of the morning vaporising the water of the pool and creating a mirage, but Renjun looked to him like a blinding mist of an ethereal being. Bathed in love. 

His eyes were fixated to a spot somewhere to the right of Jeno’s still sinking, _still sinking_ heart before he raised his arm to flag the unknown person who was walking towards their direction. 

Did he want to know who it was? No.

Did he already know _who_ it was? What _he_ was for Renjun? The meaning of the glint of that silver band around his ring finger that he miraculously missed until that very second? Yes.

“Morning sleepyhead.” Renjun said to this man. A man Jeno’s never seen before. Not even in his social media. 

Oh lord. _This is serious._

Renjun gave him a playful push on his head when this unwelcomed stranger joined them in the pool. A secret move that he knew full well was a substitute for PDA in locations where affection would be seen as inappropriate. 

He knew _full well._ Of course. Because once upon a time, he _was_ the recipient of such form of love. 

“Well well, Jeno, meet Ten. Ten, Jeno.” 

Ten’s smile faltered when their hands linked on that painfully civilised handshake. At the same time, the opposite effect happened to Jeno’s smile. They become just that little bit brighter. Just that little bit confident. Just that little bit smug because Ten’s heard about him, didn’t he? 

“Nice meeting you.” He squinted a smile and in the same, controlled breath, Jeno mouthed to himself, _hell hath cometh to paradise._

But Ten’s attention was quickly taken away when Renjun introduced him to little Harin, a ka, “the water tribe princess.”

“The water tribe princess? How wonderful!” When Ten smiled, Renjun smiled with him. He has no more use of Jeno being there. He was there no more.

And when Harin also smiled at him while excitedly bequeathing him the seat beside her as her, “earth kingdom guard,” Jeno could feel his sinking heart hitting rock bottom on his stomach and growing to be so heavy it created its own gravitational field. 

Renjun saw him staring, and he stared back. 

He stared, and he played with the ring on his left hand finger. He could catch the general gist of him turning it around so that the single diamond embedded in it, which was before hidden as he kept it inward, would catch the morning sun and _glint_ onto Jeno’s half blinded eyes. 

Which was turning bloodshot. He wanted to blame it on the chlorine. Or the sun, piercing through it with no barrier. 

It didn’t seem to matter though. Because Renjun? Renjun’s twinkled with victory. 

That was his revenge.

  
  


_

Lunch time came, lunch time went.

Jeno busied himself playing with Harin (because lord knows he didn’t want to spend any time playing within his _own_ magic playground) in their hotel room as Yoobin was off having her spa appointment and before he knew it, dinner time was there. 

In a last ditch effort of saving himself from the inevitable, Jeno asked Harin if she would like to have their dinner delivered to their room.

“We can eat while we watch TV!” He said, his voice breaking into a high pitch crack at the end in an effort of selling the idea to his always restless daughter. 

“But I want pudding!”

“You can ask the telephone lady for pudding.” She always refers to any unknown person in a call as _telephone lady_ or _telephone lord._ That evening, it was in Jeno’s best interest that he sold the idea that a dinner by the telephone lady would be the hottest thing since Pusheen plushies. 

“Telephone lady’s pudding isn’t cut in triangles!”

“We can _ask_ her to cut it into triangles…”

“Come on Pa, _pleeeeeeeease,_ you can have your mango juice! Telephone lady doesn’t have mango juice!” 

Jeno was losing his will to fight with each heart wrenching pleads Harin was giving him. With each pull at his sleeves, she managed to stack up bricks that began hiding the enormous gut feeling that told him, _no matter what he does, he won’t escape Renjun tonight.’_

Such an idea was little by little morphed into a measly whiteboard that said, _‘they’re infatuated love birds. What the heck are they doing having dinner in a measly hotel buffet?’_ all thanks to Harin’s extreme enthusiasm of having her triangular strawberry pudding.

“All right, all right. Let me tell Ma to meet us at the restaurant, okay?”

Okay.

So of course, they walked to the dinner hall, and lo and behold. Look who was sitting at the first table on the terrace.

“Prince Firelord!” Harin slipped right through his grasp and flung herself, with no warning or _hey ho! Little micro-tonne of an atomic bomb coming through!_ to a very pleasantly surprised Renjun. 

Sitting in front of him, was his earth kingdom guard.

His _fucking_ fiance. 

“Hello hello!! Come join us! We have lots of seats to spare!” Renjun politely flagged a waiter and asked him in his _still_ adorably accented English if it was possible to move another table and chairs for three. 

Harin sat next to him after the chairs materialised seemingly out of thin air. “Can I have my pudding please?” 

“Harin… dinner first.”

“But I said _please.”_ She pouted, drawling her _please_ in such a way that it even caused the sole stranger on their impromptu dinner meetup to break out in an endeared giggle.

“I’ll go and get us some,” Ten said to her before then shooting him an apologetic glance, as if asking a silent permission for spoiling a kid that wasn’t his, “you can save a slice for later!”

Jeno gave him a relenting shrug, and he could only watch in silence as Ten gave Renjun’s freshly washed hair a fleeting kiss.

“I’ll get you some too.”

Renjun absentmindedly patted his cheeks as thanks, before he went back and gave all of his attention to Jeno. Their eyes locked, and his were relentless. 

“Where’s mom?” Renjun asked, eyes still directed to him but words said in a tone sing-songy enough it wouldn’t be amiss if he actually intended the question for Harin.

“She’s coming.” Jeno took the incentive to answer it as his daughter was too busy playing with the folded napkin placed on her stacked dinner plates. 

“Better get those food, Pa. They’re running out very quickly.” The smile on his face was far too kind to be matched with such sharp words. 

Jeno sat up from his seat so harshly it grated against the wooden floor. But his hopes of such things being able to intimidate Renjun came to a crashing halt as in the silence, faintly heard were the calming tinkles of a traditional music coming from the hotel’s main lobby. The scent of frangipani swirling in together with the crisp evening wind from the sea. Time was seemingly suspended, and it felt like if he just squint hard enough, he could see their alternate future where they could have _exactly_ this on their shared dinner plates. 

The light of their mosquito candles danced against Renjun’s daring eyes and of Harin’s, who were also looking at him quizzically. 

Defeated, Jeno headed to the dinner hall. Promising Harin her dinner and silently cursing the universe for still being able to bring him winter no matter how far he hid himself inside the equatorial belt. 

  
  


_

Yoobin hit it off with Renjun right away, of course. 

Her eyes sparkled with interest when she learned of his status of being _Jeno’s highschool friend_ because, as she said, 

“He never really talked about his highschool days.”

“Really? Even after all this time?” Renjun remarked with a knowing smile. 

“No. Never.” She folded her hands underneath her chin and demanded Renjun to spill the tea.

_Come on, tell me everything._

Embarrassing moments, funny moments, that one time they thought they were being haunted by a ghost during boy scout camp but turns out it was just a white cat that took a liking to Jeno. 

They all laughed at his expense, even Harin. Excitedly laughing when others laughed because he was sure, most of the time, she didn’t understand what was being said by these meddling adults. 

He should’ve felt miffed, what with Renjun opening the cans to stories even he’s forgotten. But oddly, he couldn’t find it in himself the drive to get annoyed. How could he? All the people he loved (and an uninvited stranger) were bonding together and sharing memories that brought a smile to their faces. 

It’s a scene that would’ve usually come only from his wildest imaginations. 

They stayed there, chatting, long after dinner time was over. When the scarlet sky turned dark blue, turned black and Harin was full of her strawberry pudding and tired from all her romping at the pool, she began to whine. 

“Maaaa, I’m sleepy.”

“Oh! How rare!” She cooed, scooping Harin up to a hug before giving her temple a smooch. “Well, say bye to your uncles?” 

She half-heartedly waved her hands at Renjun and Ten before burying her face on Yoobin’s neck. 

“Boys, I have to get her ready for bed, you guys just stay where you are.”

Lord knows Jeno didn’t want to be alone with Renjun and his beau, but his refusal for such an idea was outdone when Ten yawned and said, “you know what? I think I’ll retire early too.”

Renjun looked at him incredulously. “You woke up at 10 AM!”

But by then, he’d stood up from his chair and made a spectacle of stretching his arms so deliciously his flip-flops slapped the floor when he went down from his tiptoes. 

“Come, water tribe princess, I’ll escort you to your room.”

To that, Harin was still able to let out a little, tired giggle.

“He’s good with kids.” Jeno said when the trio have taken the bend and disappeared from their field of vision. 

Jeno was sitting one seat away from Renjun, an empty chair that belonged to Harin standing awkwardly between them as he attempted to find a way to also excuse himself for the night. 

“He’s an elementary school teacher.” He huffed. After folding the napkin on his lap to the armrest of his chair, he escaped his and pulled into the one beside Jeno. Allowing him a leeway of not being the one to do the uncomfortable. “You know what? I’m licking my spit. She’s amazing.”

To the unexpected comment, Jeno could only watch him with a suspicious squint.

“And Harin, _god._ I’ve only seen her twice but if anything bad happens to her I would kill everyone and then myself.” Renjun looked at him with what originally was a smile. But with more time spent looking at his face, it slowly morphed into a serious glare. “Take care of them.”

“Of course.”

“Swear to me. Take care of them, you wimp ass milquetoast.”

“I will.” Jeno didn’t have any other choice but laugh after hearing Renjun’s (hard to admit, but accurate) jeering. It was then that he decided he’d had enough being under the spotlight and snatched the controlers to shed some light on Renjun’s personal life. “How long have you been together?”

“Nearly three years now. February.” 

“When,-?”

Renjun laughed when he caught the weakness in Jeno’s faltering words. “The wedding? I don’t know.” It petered to an end, and just when awkwardness was threatening to settle in, he gave Jeno’s shin a potent nudge with the back of his bare foot. 

“I won’t invite you anyway.”

“Understandable.”

“You know, what with you not inviting me and all that.”

He let out a pained laugh when Renjun wouldn’t stop mashing his unprotected shin bone with his calloused heel. _“Understandable, Injun.”_

“Don’t ever call me that.” Renjun’s mischievous laughter disappeared the moment he heard his ancient pet name, and he was back to calmly sitting on his chair, prim and proper, eyes trained to the blaze of fire on rattan torches that flanked the restaurant’s terrace. 

“Why?”

_“Oh you know why.”_

Jeno wanted to still put an answer to Renjun’s evasion. _Why? Because once every three years, the chest that stored your long forbidden feelings goes unlocked? Because once every three years, you start to loathe yourself for having questions on your ability to love? Because once, every three years, you look into my eyes and ask yourself, if you’ve made your bed in a house of lies?_

But he wasn’t able to. His mouth was locked shut. Just like his hands that were locked around the armrests of his chair so firmly his elbows began to minutely shake. 

Renjun was beside him, his warmth nearly intoxicating, yet he wasn’t able to do anything about it. His dreams, his plans, made months, years before he decided that he’d rather bail away in cowardice than to indulge his desire for a one-day tell-all, were extinguished one by one just like how the hotel staffs have begun to blow on the mosquito candles of the tables around them. 

Darkness, that at first only existed in his heart, began to creep onto him from his surroundings.

“We should go.” He said.

But Renjun only shook his head. Just once. As if he too was too busy battling his secret desires to be bothered. Or at least that’s what he hoped.

“Wait.” He didn’t take his eyes from the fire. “Wait…”

And so he did.

He waited.

Somehow, in the middle of their shared stupor, Jeno found himself kicking away his sandals. Naked feet against naked feet. He nudged at Renjun’s toes, from the foot that he so recently used to mercilessly attack him, and ever so kindly requested Renjun to shield him from the cruelty of their surroundings. 

Hell, in paradise. 

It was a gesture based on his very own craving, but presented as something playful. But its final interpretation was up to Renjun’s reaction to it. Jeno prayed so hard that Renjun would be kind to him, after the numerous passes that Jeno gave to him earlier, and allowed him to be soft for once. Be sheltered, for once. 

The first time they touched, Renjun jumped. Like a jolt of shock had just course through his veins. It was enough for Jeno to instinctively pull his legs away, but the desperate hook of a pinky around him that came right afterwards cemented the outcome of his bravery. 

  
He was rewarded for it. Renjun gave him a fleeting smile, shameful, if he must admit, and he allowed Jeno to slip his feet underneath his. 

They sat there, for nearly an hour. In silence. Until a kindly waitress came around to their table and told them that they will have to turn off the lights in thirty minutes. 

“Then will you let us sit here until then?” Renjun asked her with such a tender look on his face the waitress began to blush as she nodded her head. Speechless.

Oh, how much would he like to touch that gentle upturn on the corner of his lips. 

Jeno wiggled his toe, allowing him to be at the receiving end of the rare softness of Renjun’s expression, before it slowly shifted to something more inquisitive.

“What?” He asked. The faltering of his tone showed that he too was fearful.

“Let’s not hang our next meeting on fate.”

A peculiar smile popped onto his lips before he turned his head away and onto the torches once again. Jeno knew instantly he’d made the wrong move.

But his desire to let out a flurry of retractions and apology was interrupted when Renjun wistfully sighed. “We won’t be able to handle that.”

_We can’t even handle this._

“Do you regret these meetings?” 

His gaze returned so quickly to Jeno, it acted as enough confirmation that no, he didn’t regret them. Not even a second. But nevertheless, it still felt good to hear it verbalised in an almost echo within the humid night air.

“Never.”

“So can I expect to see you again in three years?” 

Renjun smiled at him. Bright and free. And it squeezed his heart so severely he remembered that mental pain can somehow rival those of physical ones.

“Of course you can.”

That night, they stayed on that restaurant’s terrace until the last torch was extinguished. 

When they bid their farewell, everything was silent until Renjun said to him, “tell them Merry Christmas, okay?”

He told him something similar, as they both knew they wouldn't see each other again come tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I created Harin on a whim and I agree that I would kill everyone and then myself afterwards if anything bad happens to her.
> 
> btw i do believe that avatar the last airbender would have such a staying power that toddlers 12 years from now would still watch it religiously because the idea of being an elemental bender is forever, baby.


	3. 15 ; 18

**\- Year 15 -**

.

The fifth time it happened, Renjun didn’t find it the least bit surprising.

He didn't even need to see Jeno's face to know that it was him.

Who else would wear a tweed coat to a sleazy bar? Who else would settle their tortoiseshell glasses at an empty bar stool as they were slumping, drunk out of their minds, on the countertop? He didn't need to flip the less-than-a-stranger stranger to know who he was.

And he no longer felt the need to curse the heavens when he _did_ flip the man over and found himself face to face with a very disheveled looking Jeno.

"Rrrrrrenjun...!" He slurred awake after Renjun administered a firm slap on his flushed cheek. "What'r you doin' e're?"

A smile creeped onto his face when he contemplated the question. _Out of all bars to find yourself wasted on this day, you just have to come to mine, didn’t you?_

"That's a question _I_ should be asking."

Renjun easily slipped his hand into Jeno's coat pocket and rummaged until he got ahold of his banged up phone. "Tell me your password, I'm calling Yoobin."

The hand that grabbed his wrist in an effort to stop him from doing anything further felt foreign. Far too harsh to be Jeno and far too strong to be _human._

"Don't." He growled. Though when he saw the alarm on Renjun's eyes, he gradually softened, "they're not in town anyway."

The hand wave he gave Renjun before he returned his forehead onto the fold of his arm only gave him more questions instead of answers. But he was in no position to pry.

"Min, how much did you give him?!" He barked at the young bartender the next time she walked past him.

She shrugged. "Swear to god, one glass." But then she went to inspect Jeno a little bit closer and gave Renjun an apologetic grimace. “He _did_ come here already smashed.” She ducked and disappeared behind the flap doors of the kitchens before Renjun could scold her for breaking the number one rule of this place, which was to never give anyone only one serving size away from passing out a drink. 

Let them vomit at the nearest GS 25 for all he cared. Chairs in his bar were only to be filled by buying customers. 

He knew Jeno _did_ always struggle with his alcohol. But to stoop this low? Damn.

"Call me a taxi," he grumbled to his security guy. "I'm taking this mess home."

  
  


_

It was only when Renjun was sitting in the taxi with an unresponsive Jeno that he remembered one thing.

He didn't know where Jeno lived.

The driver was kind enough to wait while Renjun tried (and failed) to rouse Jeno enough for him to tell him his address.

"Maybe you can check his wallet, sir?"

Renjun exasperatedly chuckled to himself. "Good idea. Thank you."

He fished into the other side of Jeno’s coat's inner lining and came out empty. A pat on the outer compartments and all his pant pockets yielded him the same result. Well, Renjun did find a crumpled fifty thousand won at his shirt's front pocket, so at least he could use that in exchange for his time and effort.

"Just take us to Hapjeong station, exit 3. I'll show you where to drop us off when we're there."

It seemed easy, at first. Just like letting a friend crash at your place after a long night of partying. But then, he forgot one thing.

The fact that he has to haul a deadweight in the form of _I’m-one-head-taller-than-you_ Jeno up two flights of stairs.

Renjun was even contemplating on enlisting the taxi driver on transporting Jeno to his home, but then he realised that he was dealing with an _old_ old man when he turned on the radio at one point of their journey and it wasn't even a greatest oldie hits channel. It was an evangelical, fire and brimstone midnight mass kind of radio.

So there he was, sitting against his door with one arm hooked around Jeno's slumping shoulders, huffing and puffing his breath away, baked to perfection underneath his puffy coat. And of course, it was only then that Jeno decided to wake up from his snore-filled slumber with a mighty yawn.

"Where are we?" He asked, so innocently that Renjun was only able to roll his eyes (instead of berating him like he originally planned to do) before punching in his safety code and kicking the door so harshly, Jeno made his entrance to Renjun's home by rolling across the floor of his dim living room.

“My place.” Renjun said curtly as he draped his coat on the back of his dining chair, and did so with Jeno’s jacket that he yanked away from his flabby arms. 

Jeno spent a good five minutes struggling to get up to his feet, and another five ambling to the water dispenser for a drink. Ceramic wares tinkled dangerously under his clumsy fingers until he managed to hook his pinkie around a mug and fill it to the brim with ice cold water.

“It’s… homely.” He mumbled after letting out a mighty burp.

“Thanks.”

“Where’s Ten?”

Renjun’s ears perked to the mention of a name he’s not heard for the last two and a half years or so. In his haste to steer the conversation elsewhere, he made the mistake of pulling the age-old, nearly forbidden method of self-defence by pricking up the hairs on his nape and intimidatingly balked back at Jeno.

“Where’s Yoobin?”

In response to such a cheap shot, Jeno only stared into the surface of his half empty mug for a long time. 

Renjun was about to ask him if he was okay when he was shocked by the suddenness of Jeno banging the cup onto the surface of his kitchen island and charging at him with such determination and soberness to his gait.

It wasn’t until he captured Renjun’s wrists in those holds that were once again too firm and too desperate to be _Jeno,_ that he realised how foolish he was for bringing someone who was essentially an _unknown stranger_ into his own home. 

Jeno tore his hands away from the backings of the dining chair and inspected his fingers. Insistent hands forcing Renjun to splay them open for the scrutiny of his jittery eyes, which were glazed over with a blazing fire. He seemed to struggle in taking the fact that they were free of any rings. Not even a strip of lighter colored skin indicated that it was just recently taken off. 

What happened next, happened so quickly it spared Renjun the guilt of not having the foresight to prevent it.

Spared him the guilt for not being able to stop it.

Spared him the guilt, for secretly wanting it.

Jeno’s hand scorched him by the skin of his nape, when he suddenly bore down on Renjun and pulled him into a greedy kiss. A yearning kiss. A kiss so sinful and senseless Renjun could do nothing but close his eyes as tight as they could as vertigo overtook him and he couldn’t begin to tell where he was in relation to the earth.

His lips were so sweet, so inviting. The name, tumbling out of them, were his and Renjun didn’t even bother to stop his own hands when they shot up to cup Jeno’s cheeks in a forbidden effort of keeping him there. Pulling him even closer, if possible. Because there he was. The prohibited commodity that he’d tried all his life to avoid but just tasted all the more better, even more so than his memories served him, once he'd had it again. 

Hunger overtook him. Hunger overtook both of them as fingers roamed into hairs, pulling at them as Renjun pawed at Jeno’s wrinkled shirt, tearing it up and away from his pants. It was such an all consuming force that Renjun nearly forgot how it felt to be a human, until the tips of his fingers fell upon naked skin.

It wasn’t until Jeno suckled the nook of his neck and his nails grazed on the skin of Jeno’s waist, that everything came crashing down on him like a bucket full of ice cold water. 

It took him a total of three tries to pry himself away from the cage Jeno imposed on him. On top of that, it took Renjun one firm shove of his palm on Jeno’s face to stop him from mindlessly seeking his way back to his lips. 

They stood, awkwardly and in silence. Body filled to the brim with potential energy that it only took Jeno one twitch of his finger for Renjun to run up and away, putting his measly dining table between him and Jeno because god knows if he could contain himself if they touch so soon after separating. 

“Get… get the fuck out.” His voice came out in a hoarse hiss. And when Jeno didn’t respond, he repeated his words once again. This time, in a clear yell. 

Through all that, Jeno was unmoving. He was hunched there in his living room, an image straight out of a paranormal tabloid. Pale, beyond measure, and his shirt billowing about his hunched form like a spectral halo. The next time he spoke, it was all but a mere whisper. “I thought you want this.”

Renjun didn’t even bother to match the tone that was set by Jeno when he responded to such a carelessly made assumption with a flurry of words delivered in a half yell. “You _thought_ I wanted to be a _fucking_ homewrecker?! A villain in this scenario that you can just grab and throw under the bus when you need to?! _Even when you know how much I care about you and your family?!_ ”

“Renjun, I wouldn’t,-”

“Oh _fuck off!!”_

“Can’t you… can’t you try to understand my position?” His hands were balled into such a tight fist that if his skin were anymore thinner, they would’ve bled. “If I could, I wouldn’t have done all this.”

“Wow! Then grow a fucking backbone, maybe?!” Renjun was relentless in his attack, both blinded by his own rage and his own disappointment for not being able to be the better person in this situation, that he failed to put a rein on his words. 

“So is this your plan all along?! Huh? Create your perfect, morally upstanding family as a disposable front while you fool around with your whore at the back? A plan fifteen years in the making, am I right?” They tumble, all along the floor of his desolate home, one after the other, after the other, as his feet take him to the _stranger_ standing frozen in the middle of it. Ignoring that with each selfish stab he took, Jeno’s expression was growing more and more anguished.

He stopped when he was standing toe to toe with Jeno, his anger causing him to forget the distance restriction he so recently set. “What, huh?! Hey! Cat got your tongue?! Answer me!” His palms struck Jeno on his shoulders and for a split second Renjun flinched. Because he was hoping, maybe, he was praying that Jeno would retaliate because if it kept on going like this, it would feel to him as if he was beating a surrendered foe. People around them, who at first were cheering at him, would slowly turn against his decision to keep going even when he, when Jeno, already kissed the ground in a state of defeat.

Renjun was barely able to push through a whisper. “How could you hurt them like this.”

“They don’t need to know.” There was something that snapped within Jeno’s mind when he spoke next, Renjun could tell. From the way his body stiffly straightened up, and those eyes. The moonlight glinting over his bloodshot eyes suddenly took a harsh turn. “They. Don’t. Need. To. Know.”

_“Wow…_ look at yourself, you pathetic _asshole.”_

_“THAT’S RICH COMING FROM YOU!!”_ And there it was. The retaliation. Jeno yelled it so loudly and so near to his face that Renjun couldn’t stop fear from showing on it. Jeno’s entire body was shivering in rage, and those fingers… if those coiled claws found their way around his wrists once more, they would’ve snapped perfectly in two. 

“Am _I_ not allowed to break? _Am I not?!”_ His voice was down to a raging growl, and when he took one step forward, Renjun took two steps back. Though just when he was ready to dash out of his apartment and take the fight to a more spacious location, Jeno put a stop to it by suddenly slinking down to his knees. He crumpled like a stack of wet tissue paper, and Renjun fought his best to deny the urge of cradling the head that slumped against those shoulders in such an awkward, defeated angle. 

“I’m so tired, Renjun.” He whispered. 

His fingers dug deep into the fabric of his pants, and Renjun learned that Jeno still had some balls in him when instead of hiding away and sparing himself the reality of his guilt, Jeno picked his head up and stared into Renjun’s very core when he pathetically bared his soul on his kitchen floor and begged. “Tonight. Just tonight. Please. Please… _Please.”_

It would be so easy for Renjun to fall onto him, then, to sink into him. It would be so easy to open up to him, allow him to come in, allow Jeno to settle and remind Renjun what it feels like to live in a body that he can call his. 

_Just tonight,_ didn’t he say? 

Just tonight, and they would have another three years to deny, to hate, to loathe. They have three years to pretend as if they were forgiven. 

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t, could he? Even if he wanted to. Even if he’d dreamed about this for years and years prior. But on the day that it was presented to him on a silver platter, what did he do?

He refused it. Of course. 

_Of course._

“We can’t, Jeno.” Renjun’s never had to look down on Jeno. He’s always been the one to look down on _him._ The ring, the marmalade, his job, the most wonderful child that you could ever wish for. Yet now there they were. Jeno, asking him for something only he could give but wouldn’t. “We _can’t.”_

“Then hold me.” He said, before he shed the very last of his dignity and latched himself onto the front of Renjun’s shirt. All this time, he thought that he was the dog. Following Jeno around, waiting by the door for him to come back, to come to his senses. But seeing him like this, on his knees, his fingers trembling as they clutch onto him as if it was his last lifeline, Renjun wondered. _Who_ is _the dog?_ “Just… just,- please. _Please Renjun.”_

It was then that the tears started falling, and Renjun had never seen, never even _thought_ that Jeno was capable of crying that for a second he was lost. Literally, lost inside his own mind as he struggled to find the correct way to deal with such an unexpected situation.

Should he kick him out? _Should he kick him?_ Should he… what. Forgive him? Console him? How? Yield to him? Give him what he wanted and cross the line of no return once and for all? 

Jeno saw the empty look on Renjun’s eyes and probably deduced it to be disdain. Coldness. Disgust, maybe, and it only caused him to cry even harder.

Such a surprising sight, where Jeno’s face scrunched up into an expression he must’ve learned from watching Harin throw her temper tantrum, enacted an involuntary laughter out of Renjun’s lips. He slapped a palm on them when he realised how inappropriate that was.

Driven by guilt, for ever laughing at a person that was down on their luck, Renjun took away Jeno’s dirty glasses from its current position, half slanted on his rosy nose, and put the greasy thing on his dining table. He then joined Jeno on his knees, running his thumbs underneath those puffy, swollen eyes to dry his cheeks of the waterfall of tears. 

It might not be right. Right might be calling a taxi and telling Jeno to never speak to him ever again. Right might be telling him to take a cold shower and forcing him to sleep on the sofa, asking Jeno to not wake him up in the morning when he would then leave the house in shame. This, what he was doing, leading Jeno to the soft carpet of his living room and carefully lowering his head to one of the throw pillows that littered the ground before joining his side, might not be right. 

Might not be sane.

But he couldn’t lie to himself and say that he too wanted to be held. That he craved a type of human touch more meaningful than something skin deep. Because at the end of the day, they’re both dogs. And this was them, finally barking. 

He put an arm around Jeno’s shoulder and pulled him close, not stopping until he could feel Jeno resting his scorched forehead against his rumbling chest.

Jeno slipped his hands around his waist, and pulled them so tightly it was starting to get difficult for him to breathe. He wanted to tell him that he wasn’t going anywhere. That this is his house anyway. But words escaped him, and Renjun was only able to silently stroke the grimy strands of hair away from Jeno’s face.

“You don’t _actually_ want this.”

Jeno sniffled, and buried his face even deeper to his chest. His nose tickled the nook of his clavicle and it took Renjun his whole entire, nearly nonexistent stomach muscle to stop himself from giggling. “Oh I do. I very much _do.”_

A little bit escaped, and he let it ride out because well… the situation they were in is hilariously absurd, isn’t it? To be stuck in one time stream while the whole world rushes around you, just once every three years. _Hilarious._ “I mean… the other one.”

Jeno tensed up at that, nails digging sharply into the skin of his waist. It took Renjun several dozens of strokes through his hair for him to calm down enough that he was able to speak with a stable voice. “You’re right. I don’t.”

He could feel a wave of fresh wetness spreading across the collar of his shirt, and resorted to patting Jeno softly on his back. Renjun found a smile appearing on his lips when he buried his nose into his smoke-scented hair. The more Jeno sniffled, the more it grew. Oh, how he wished for time to stop just then. 

“Hold me.” An odd voice, so nasal it sounded nearly childish, seeped out from the folds of his shirt that Renjun couldn’t stop himself from snorting out another bout of laughter.

“What do you think I’m doing?”

_“Tighter.”_

Renjun’s laugh softened into a sigh, into a fleeting kiss he gave to the top of his head. “You big baby…”

Renjun was right. Jeno _has_ regressed back to being a baby. Demanding to be held, to be loved. To be allowed to cry and be vulnerable for once. A big baby with soft crow’s feets growing at the corner of his eyes. He noticed them when Jeno pulled himself slightly away from their embrace so he could seek solace in Renjun’s gaze.

His smile lines were getting more pronounced too, of course, as there must’ve been a give and take happening in the universe, what with him having such a blinding smile like that. Faint freckles decorated the bridge of his nose and the peak of his cheeks, and his glasses left permanent divots on the inner corner of his eyes. Renjun found himself tracing them with the tips of his fingers in an effort to physically connect the years of growth they’ve both done in separation.

“I love you.” He suddenly said, and it was Renjun’s turn to freeze up.

“Don’t. Don’t,-”

“I love you,” Jeno repeated, and in fear that Renjun would push himself away and book it out of the apartment, he increased the strength of his hold which, Renjun just found out, was possible without him breaking off into four clean pieces. 

Safely knowing that Renjun wasn’t capable of going anywhere far from him, Jeno then dragged himself upward so they were finally looking eye to eye. “It’s weird, ok? But listen to me. Listen.” His palm was warm when they held his aching cheek. Aching, because Renjun was trying so hard to bite off the smile threatening to spill onto his lips. He must’ve looked a fool. 

“I love you, and I love Yoobin, and I love, love, _love_ Harin.” Jeno paused, and returned Renjun’s earlier show of kindness by wiping the tear that rolled down one eye, across his nose bridge and into the other. “I love you. I love you but I can only love you once every three years.” Jeno’s gaze jumped from one eye to the other, to his snot filled nose, to his trembling lips, which he kissed once more with such tenderness that Renjun let him have it. Just that once. 

From the way he smiled when they separated, it seemed that Jeno got his memo. “Just tonight. Let me.”

He didn’t demand Renjun to return his words. He didn’t even linger for more than a second after he said it and Renjun knew that he didn’t say it as a way to fish for validation.

Jeno was only asking for his permission to love others in a certain way that he surely hasn’t done in a very long time. Because he was clumsy when he did so, all clammy hands clutching at the back of Renjun’s shirt and greasy nose nearly bumping against his.

Ugly. Ugly, adolescent, unrequited love that went unrefined around the edges. 

Renjun hasn’t tasted something like it since… well, since they were themselves adolescents. 

“You’re so dumb.” Renjun said as he shoved Jeno down so he wouldn’t have to look into those dumb… spellbinding… lovably devastating eyes of his that were making him weak in his will. Jeno let out a thin laugh when he did so, and when Renjun resumed stroking his hair as they went back to a more quiet, laid back hug.

“Wake me up before twelve.” After a long stretch of silence, Jeno’s mumble surprised Renjun just as much as a frantic tapping on his door would. He’s forgotten how it felt like to have a conversation weighed down heavily with sleep that everything felt off. 

The content of their talk didn’t help at the very least.

“Why?”

“I need to go before twelve.” He repeated, but with words that were even more slurred than before, betraying the determination he was trying to force his body to feel even when it was slipping away from his grasps like loose particles of sand. “I have to…” 

“Why? Don’t worry about oversleeping, I’ll wake you up.”

“No!” His voice suddenly shot up to quite a loud yell, and Renjun would’ve jumped out of his skin if not for how tight Jeno had his grip across his back. “No… you stay awake and… and wake me before twelve.”

Twelve AM is in forty five minutes. Looking at his condition, Renjun _knew_ that Jeno could never be woken up once he entered his alcohol induced REM sleep. But just as he was about to handwave this odd conversation as some nonsensical mumbo jumbo of a drunk, Jeno added something intriguing to his previous mutters.

“The new day… is not ours.” When he said it, his fists that were bunching up Renjun’s shirt went slack. “If we see each other…? The world ends.” 

It was hard to admit, but the drunk was right. They were in impossible time, this one day every three years. A fixed moment. What would happen if they were to see each other when their allotted time was up? 

Illusions would break. And questions, too many and too painful to be endured, would surface. Questions that Renjun wouldn’t even have the lick of idea on how to answer. Or even to lie to. 

Though after quickly deciding that sleep was more important than the destruction of reality itself, Renjun forced himself to ignore Jeno’s warnings and resumed to stroke his hair, not denying him his much needed slumber any longer. “Don’t worry. Once I sleep I won’t wake up till eight.”

“Oh… that’s good.” 

“I won’t see you leave.”

“... hmm.”

“You won’t technically see me too.”

“Right…”

“So that means the world won’t end.” He whispered, and Jeno responded with something that sounded more like a grunt than a word. 

_“Good…”_

It didn’t take long for the drunken baby to fall once again to a dreamless sleep, and Renjun was getting drowsy himself, what with the warmth spreading through his whole body from how widely Jeno was casting his hold across his back. It was the middle of winter and Renjun hadn't turned on the heating of his apartment but he was warm. So warm. When was the last time he fell asleep being hugged by someone? Far too long. 

“You can never know.” He whispered as he studied every little twitch and turn of Jeno’s slumber. How loudly he snored when he’s gotten deeper into the realm of sleep. How when his vision blurred enough, he could fool himself into thinking that this was his reality. No longer just a dream he conjured up when his loneliness was eating him from the inside out. 

He gave the top of Jeno’s head one last kiss before sleep took him away from the impossible truth. 

  
  


_

The next morning Renjun woke up shivering to a sore hip and a stiff neck, and an empty apartment. 

Jeno was gone.

_Of course,_ he thought, as he flipped the blanket away from his cramped legs and grunted while struggling to push himself up to his feet. _I told him to do so myself._

With much trouble, he made it to his sink, and just when he was about to take a fresh glass of water to remedy his parched throat, he saw the mug that Jeno used last night, sitting precariously at the edge of his kitchen island. 

Everything crashed down on him. This time scorching, like a heap of white hot coals. 

His clothing smelled of Jeno. His hair smelled of Jeno. His back was still covered in phantom hives from how long Jeno covered them with his palms. If he closed his eyes, he could’ve convinced himself that Jeno would appear from his bathroom, fresh out of shower. Jeno would approach him and give him a good morning kiss on his cheek. 

_“Merry Christmas,”_ he’ll say. And Renjun was so spooked by how vivid his imagination was that he had to wrench his eyes open.

He looked down on the mug. There was still a mark of Jeno’s lips on its rim.

He could’ve used it to take his first drink of the day. He _could_ also put the shirt he’s wearing into a plastic bag, so in the future he could take it out and wear it to sleep, when the silence grew too unbearable. 

He could. He could. He could. 

But then his eyes fell onto the small post-it note placed on his fridge. A post-it note that Jeno must’ve stolen from his study desk because he didn’t even have his wallet with him. Why a post-it note?

It said _Merry Christmas_ on an adorably messy text. 

Renjun could take that note and put it on his bedside table. So it would be the first thing he read every morning.

He could.

But he wouldn’t.

Renjun rinsed the cup under the tap going full force, scrubbing it until there was no trace of Jeno left on it. He took off his clothes, and the blanket that Jeno _so kindly_ draped over him when he took his leave, and threw it into his washing machine, running it even though those were the only items in it. He jumped in the shower and like the mug, scrubbed himself in hot water until he forgot how Jeno’s palms felt on the small of his back. How his fingers would twitch in his sleep and softly tickle him. How his lips pressed against his collarbone. The legs that entwined around his when the night was deep. 

He only turned off the water when he could no longer feel the heat of his own tears on his cheek.

He wasted half a can of air fresheners to take off the last of Jeno’s scent from the carpet on his living room, he wiped his study desk, and opened up all the windows in his modest apartment. 

It was a lot. Maybe too much. 

But he had to do it to tell his body, his mind, his _soul_ that Jeno was gone, and he was not going to come back. He was gone. 

Their time was over and Jeno was no more. 

He sat on his bed, staring at Jeno’s post-it note in silence. Unmoving until his shivers were too violent to ignore. 

Then he took it to his kitchen, and stood over the sink as he lit a lighter under it and watched it burn to ashes. He watched as the last fragment slipped into the drain with the help of a spray of water from the faucet. 

_That’s the last of him,_ Renjun sighed. 

_Time to wake up._

* * *

**\- Year 18 -**

.

Jeno has been pacing around his kitchen for the last thirty minutes or so. 

It was only supposed to be a Christmas Eve lunch party, but he’s been stressing over it so much that even Yoobin’s angel cake sensed it from the oven and sank because of it.

“You’re ruining everything!” She yelled at him as she took out the cracked and sunken cake out of the oven. Sad. So sad. Just like him. “Go and entertain the guests!” 

With a simple push, he was barred entry from his fortress of solitude. 

_It’s just a lunch party,_ he thought, all the while perfectly executing the well honed skill of socialising with people while being on cruise mode.

It _was_ just a lunch party. But… he _was_ expecting someone. And at that point, the waiting game has given him so much anxiety he didn’t know if he’d rather they show up or not. 

Every bell ring sent him jumping to his feet, before he paced worriedly over the mess of foam Nerf ammunition pieces that were being used by Harin and her playmates to his front door, only for him to sink, just like the cake (though in his case it was just minutely, instead of the horrifying disaster that Yoobin must now salvage), when he didn’t see the only one guest he wanted to stand beyond the door. 

Renjun. 

Yes. Jeno invited him. 

Two weeks before Christmas, after months-long contemplation that sometimes took over half of his day in chunks, Jeno decided to stick his middle finger up the always meddling universe’s bum and play with the rules of the game for once. 

They shall meet once every three years. That’s the rule, isn’t it? So what can the universe do if Jeno makes it so that they _will_ meet? No longer fate. No longer coincidence. He’s making a date for it. Sharpie it onto his old school paper journal. Key it into his google calendar. Tell his secretary to remind him to go to Hapjeong station, exit 3, on December 21st so he could slide in a formal letter into a certain apartment room, inviting Renjun for a Christmas Eve lunch event. 

_‘Plus one is allowed.’_ He put into the end of the letter. _‘Or not. I won’t judge.’_

Initially he did that because ya know, he wanted the letter to have a _wink, wink, nudge, nudge, don’t really worry haha it’s not big of a deal we’re adults I can make jokes about dark subject matter,_ or something like that. But as he was conversing with Yoobin’s work colleague, trying his best to ignore the uncontrollable chatter of his brain, Jeno realised that he acted like a complete and utter buffoon about it. 

_Of course he won’t come,_ he ruminated, mind going 100 miles an hour while outside, he was struggling to keep up his stepford husband facade. _Of course he won’t come, you idiot. He must’ve thought of you as a creeper, as a pushover, as a jerkass, didn’t he say it himself? An asshole! I’m an asshole dear god I’m an asshole universe forgive me I didn’t mean to cross you I shouldn’t have tried to rig the game please god do I have to wait for another three years now before I see his face again I’m losing it I’m losing it I’m losing it I’m lo,-_

The bell rang. 

Between the rising cacophony of the large number of guests and his spiralling thought, Jeno didn’t notice it.

It rang again.

Still, he didn’t hear it.

It wasn’t until Harin called out to him, that he broke free of his stupor and directed his attention to his front door. Yoobin was already there. A speck of flour on her cheek as she directed an exasperated look to Jeno. _You had one job,_ it said. 

_I’m sorry,_ he answered with a shrug, just in time for him to walk far enough to see who was waiting beyond the door. 

“Oh my _god!_ Renjun, isn’t it?! It’s been so long!” Yoobin’s face lit up, probably from remembering all the funny stories Renjun told her, which, to his defense, has been an invaluable fuel for Yoobin’s comical smear campaign against him. 

Jeno’s brain also lit up when he saw Renjun’s face, in clarity, this time. When their eyes met beyond their social camouflage and they shared a knowing nod that was so minute nobody would’ve noticed anything. Even if they knew what to look for. 

“Sorry I’m late!” He huffed, taking off his coat and fighting Yoobin for the right to hold it and drop it to the coat cupboard himself. 

“Because of course you two have a coat cupboard!” He said, when Yoobin gave his arm a slap and told him to stop assuming that they’re loaded.

“We’re not _that_ bougie.”

“But do you have a coat cupboard though.”

“... we do.”

Renjun flapped his arms and looked at Jeno. _See?_ He said, before he gave in to Yoobin’s insistence and allowed her to take care of his piece of garment. 

Jeno handed him a clean glass and led him to the refreshment corner. “Thank you for coming.”

“Formal, are we?”

“Well, it is what’s expected of us.”

But when they arrived at the corner, Jeno found himself on the brink of losing the battle he’s been waging against his brain. Drowned, by his overflowing thoughts, he ended up just standing beside Renjun with awkwardness pouring out of his very being so potently that Renjun could sense it.

“What?”

“You know… about last time…” 

Renjun surprised him with a laughter so free it rang through his living room, and it drove Jeno to do a quick look over the faces of his other guests. But he didn’t do it because he was spooked. Oh, no.

He almost grabbed the mother of one of Harin’s friends because he wanted to ask her if she’s ever heard such a beautiful sound before. Such a rare tune that finally came to bless his humble dwelling.

In response to Jeno’s worry, Renjun only waved his hand in a careless manner. “It was a whatever, okay? Now let me get these fancy ass snacks.”

But Jeno didn’t execute his plan. Of course he didn’t. Instead Jeno sighed, and looked over to Renjun, who was busy filling up a platter with a mountain of imported chips, with such thankfulness in his eyes he was getting close to the border of looking _dumb._

“You have to greet Harin.”

“What? No! Let her play.” Renjun was halfway through munching on his snack when he answered. “She won’t remember me anyway.”

Jeno raised his eyebrows and gestured for Renjun to follow him. “Oh, you’ll be surprised.” 

He led Renjun past his backyard (“Of course you have a backyard.” “Come on it’s not that big of a deal.”) and onto his recreation room ( _“Of course you have a fucking recreation room.”_ “God, shut up.”), where Harin was doing crafts with her little cousins and school friends. 

When she saw Renjun walking through the double door, her eyes light up so brightly they would’ve turned to stars if they could.

“Uncle fire lord!” She screeched and ran straight on towards Renjun, not stopping until she butted her head against his ribcage and caused chips to rain down on her hair. “Yo, I miss you!”

“Y… yo I miss… you too…!” Renjun struggled to squeeze out his words in between bouts of coughing and wheezing, all the while Jeno was there, enjoying every second of it with a wicked giggle of his own. 

Renjun went and ruffled her pixie hair to high heavens. “Have you guys been gossiping about me without my knowledge?! You were five when we met! What are you, an elephant?”

He wanted to tell Renjun that yes, they do talk about him often, and fondly too. The odd, quirky friend of Pa’s that they met in Bali, the one with the funny stories, the one with the wild hair, the one with the pretty fingers. _The only one of Pa’s friends that’s not lame, actually,_ Harin would add. Maybe the constant chatter about Renjun that happened all year round was the reason why he’d built a sort of immunity towards the thought of him. 

They chipped the walls he built around his emotions, the compartments that separated each and everyone of them into their tidy, suffocating corners. 

They’ve now bled together into one blob of multicoloured light. Just love, and love, and love, and love and he wanted to share it. He wanted to tell Renjun that everyone here loves him, so very much.

But it was too complicated of a conversation to be had in front of his daughter, wasn’t it? So Jeno kept the thought safe in his mind for now and joined the little interaction they were having. 

“She’s a robot, actually.” Jeno said while giving Harin’s nose a soft boop, which she quickly wiped with the sleeves of her sweater.

She then toyed with it a little bit, just enough that they could get a glimpse of the tip of an old, used wire poking through the cuff. Great job on pulling that move, Harin. Perfectly accidentally on purpose.

“Gosh, Pa, I’m an _android_ ya ‘no _.”_ She snorted.

“Yeah, _Pa,_ she’s an android,” Renjun chimed in, giving Harin a wink, “you better learn your terminology.”

“Ye, learn your terminology, _Pa.”_

Jeno rolled his eyes because he knew he won’t escape from this for _at least_ a full month. Harin would yell it from her room, which means that Yoobin would _also_ pick it up. He really can’t ever win, can he?

“Ok. Enough of that.” He said while brushing off chip crumbs from her shoulders, “hey, show uncle Renjun your paintings.” Jeno glanced back at Renjun and saw that he was minutely shaking his head. _What are you doing?_

Jeno decided to ignore his question. “He’s also a painter himself, you know?” 

Even if Renjun was initially reluctant to follow, he wouldn’t have a chance to excuse himself anyway, what with Harin instantly capturing his wrist in an excited hold and pulling him deeper into the room, to the cupboard at the corner that housed all of her doodles, sketches, and canvases covered in vibrant colours. 

Renjun looked genuinely surprised by them. Well, not that it mattered if he faked it. Because either way, Harin was beaming as she heard him tell her comments that resonated well with her artful language. _Not like you and Ma, ya ‘no?_ She told him later. _I mean I know my paintings are nice but I want to know more!_

Maybe he could ask Renjun to teach him some artsy lingo, sometimes. Over coffee, maybe.

And definitely way sooner than _three fucking years in the future._

  
  


___

The lunch party ended up stretching to dinner. And by the time Renjun was (un)willingly let go from the tight claws of Harin, the sun had long set in the horizon. Yoobin offered to drive him to his house, but Renjun refused it politely by saying that,

“I ate three slices of your pot roast. I _have_ to walk it off.”

“Then I’ll walk with you.” It was an easy, no brainer thing for Jeno to say, but the way Renjun flinched when he heard it showed that it wasn’t so easy for him to accept.

He still offered Jeno a little volley of formal fake attempts at refusal, because that’s what they were today, right? Formal.

“You really don’t have to.”

“I have my jacket on already. You have to let me do this.”

Renjun looked at him, straight on, and gave him a tired smile. “I can’t say no to this, can I?”

From the way Jeno already had Renjun’s coat draped on his arm to act as hostage, it should be clear to Renjun what was the answer to his redundant question.

No. No he couldn’t.

The streets of his housing complex were deserted. Rightfully so, as that night felt somehow more biting than usual. 

“How was it?” Jeno asked and gave Renjun a slight nudge with his shoulder.

“It was fun.” His answer came with a huff of small laughter. 

“Would you like to do it again…” Jeno paused a little bit there, having to use the pain of his nails scraping against the skin of his palm to both wake his bravery and strength to ask Renjun the one million dollar question, “sooner?”

Renjun’s laughter grew louder, and it shocked Jeno. Not a _good_ shock though, a bad one. Because it sounded so callous and bitter he even forgot that Renjun was capable of showing such unkindness. 

“I knew you would say that.” 

“Why? I’m ready for it, you don’t have to worry for another accident,-“

“Do you know what I work as right now? You don’t, do you?” Renjun so easily cut him and swerved their conversation to an uncharted location. Just as easily as him playing with the little patch of muddy snow with the tip of his boot, before kicking it into a fine shower of disgusting slurry. The smile on his lips was so sarcastically saccharine it caused Jeno to taste bile at the back of his throat. “I’m an elementary school art teacher, you know that?”

“I… I don’t. Sorry.” What Jeno also didn’t know was where the conversation was going. Where were they going? To the station. Yes. But _where_ were they going, really?

“I live with my mom now, you know that? … Can’t believe the old hag has forgotten me enough to let an old shame roam around her this freely.” Renjun said as he took one wide step so he was ahead of Jeno. “I’m renting my old apartment. Yes, that one in Hapjeong. My friend forwarded your letter to me,” he glanced back, and Jeno saw that the tip of his nose was getting redder and redder the more he spoke, “she’s the bartender who got you wasted last time. Funny, isn’t it?”

“Renjun, what,-”

He suddenly stopped in his tracks, and only then did Jeno realise that they’ve already reached the main road outside of his housing complex. “You don’t know me.” Renjun said with a shrug, “don’t get smug and think that you do.”

“Wha…,-t? You’re confusing me. If that’s the case then let me know you. You don’t _have_ to make this so hard.” Jeno was speaking to him, but Renjun was going out of his way to avoid being seen by him, turning his shoulder this way and that so Jeno would always end up only looking at the back of his head. 

Feeling tired of being given a _literal_ cold shoulder, Jeno got ahold of Renjun’s elbow and yanked it hard enough that he had no other choice but to look him in the eye. 

But yes, of course. How stupid of him. Of course there was only one reason for why Renjun was avoiding him. His oversight once again made him look like the dumbest, most idiotic person in this world for not catching onto it sooner.

Renjun was crying. Silently. A trail of waterfall falling freely down his wide eyes, which were magically clear. A sign that he’s done this often. That for him, tears, are a familiar old friend.

Unlike him. 

“Tell them Merry Christmas.” He said, his gaze a block of ice that didn’t even tremble when Jeno caught it. His voice was as clear as his intention. _You’ve seen what you want to see, now let me go._ There wasn’t even a sliver of doubt within it. None. 

So Jeno did. He let Renjun go, and watched him disappear between the sea of drab coloured coats in the middle of the cross road.

He was dumb, wasn’t he?

Just because he’s figured it out, doesn’t mean everyone has, does it?

The bridge that he thought he’d so carefully salvage from the ashen skeleton he left it back in the day? It’s never looked worse. All of his efforts were for naught. Were they effort though? Or were they just cheap shots he took blindly just because he could? Just because _he_ wanted to? 

Jeno now found himself standing in the middle of it, alone, as the stones around him crumbled into the dead river, waiting for him below. 

Maybe this is what he got for ever daring to challenge the universe. 

Or maybe he was just stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh........ yea
> 
> this chapter is rly the proof that no matter what, as a writer we will always gravitate to path of most angst.  
> honestly at first I was like 'they won't do anything sexual. i won't let him do that to his wife (because as her creator I've grown attached to her)' but in the end i created something.... way worse?
> 
> anyways :))))))))) ye


	4. 21 ; 24

**\- Year 21 -**

**.**

Let’s set the scene.

It was a bar of a fancy hotel in Cologne, Germany. Dimly lit, copper mirrors, leather sofas, chandelier, live piano lulling from a corner somewhere. The place was packed full of suave, crisp looking business _people_ cajoling with one another, and bottles of whiskey flanking the shelves. Or bourbon. Maybe rum. Basically think of a pretentious, actually disgusting, manly man drink and you’ll probably find it there.

But whatever. Who cares about all that. 

Let’s cut to the chase. 

Renjun was sitting at the far corner, drinking a cosmopolitan, and he just sprayed the neon orange concoction to the cream coloured suit of an older gentleman beside him when he saw Jeno walk in through the crystalline double door. 

And oh, it was 10 AM. 

In panic, Renjun apologised to the gentleman (only once, before he shoved a damp tissue paper that he’s been using as a makeshift coaster to his lapel and bid him _auf wiedersehen goodbye),_ who all the while was grumbling what he suspected was a long string of germanic swear words, and attempted to book his way out of the bar as _fast_ as he could.

Emphasise on the word _attempted._

Because what do you get when you fill an empty stomach with three glasses of double shot carbonated cocktail?

You get dummy wasted, of course.

Renjun’s knees betrayed him when they gave up in a weak wobble, and he found himself careening to one of the empty sofas. Finally ending the string of his scandalous actions when he face-dived into it with a pathetic _pssshhhh._

He could tell that Jeno was standing over him, his expensive Prada, Hermes, whatever-erry coat hanging by his folded arms. He could tell that Jeno had a smile on his face. Wide. Mischievous. Very rarely seen. 

There must be one of Jeno’s colleagues scattered around the dim room, right? They _were_ stuck in the most boring-est biochemical buyers-dealers- _whatever-the-heck-it-was_ conference, so why _did_ Jeno still approach a man who surely will be the talk of a small village for the next year or so? And yes, Renjun has just embarrassed the company he represented by acting like a total bufoon before breakfast was even over but who the fuck cares. He got there by being 100% shameless in showing his desire to go on a free trip to Europe and sucking dicks anyway so why should he mind his manners?

_“Stop it.”_ Renjun’s voice was barely audible, what with his mouth completely mushed against the thick leather of the sofa.

But Jeno caught it nonetheless. “Stop what?”

_“Whatever you have on your face.”_

“Oh, get up now.” Jeno said, all while giving the back of Renjun’s knees a gentle swish with the tail of his coat. 

Renjun did get up. Hair a mess and cheeks aflush as he sat there, pouting. Looking so jarringly out of place between all the still murmuring members of high society.

“Come.” Jeno gestured with his head to the door. _Let’s get out of here._

“No,” Renjun said curtly, “you came here for a reason. Finish that reason.”

He sighed. “I came here for you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Well, I asked the concierge,” he said, leaning down so his eyes were in line with Renjun’s. They were shining so brightly, nearly boyish, glimmering underneath the low light of the bar. _“Do you have a Renjung Huang in your database? I borrowed his pen and forgot to return it to him_ . Then she said, _‘we do sir.’_ Least to say, I was not surprised.” 

From the way he talked, Renjun knew instantly. This was not the Jeno that he’s ever known before. This was a Jeno that has finally accepted his place in this world. And Renjun felt kind of annoyed by that.

“Then I asked her, _where can I find him? I will be checking out tomorrow and it’ll be a pity if I can’t return this pen to him._ I told her it’s an expensive pen, of course.”

Because how cruel of Her? To also make him see a Renjun that he’s never seen before, but to find him looking like _this._

Jeno kept telling him his tale, the little gamble with 100% probability of winning that he did against the universe where of course, he came out of it with the jackpot. “She then said, _he’s in the bar, sir._ And so here I am.”

Renjun spent a long beat staring at him. Exasperation against victory. He didn’t even have the slightest bit of chance of overthrowing the dynamic.

So he sighed, and accepted the offer of a helping hand so generously given to him by this dashing gentleman. “You’re so annoying, you know that?” 

“Wouldn’t be here if I don’t.”

  
  


_

Jeno guided him, this sleep deprived, drunken, vampiric grump of a mess down the sparsely populated street near their hotel. The glint of winter sun was harsh against his dry eyes, and Renjun instantly regretted the fact that he'd forgotten his sunglasses back in his room. To be fair, he wasn’t planning on doing any sightseeing that day. He was planning on loading his system with so much alcohol it has no other choice but to shut down until Christmas. 

It was a pity Jeno found him first.

Jeno, who found him, even when he thought that running away to Europe would be the answer he’s been searching for. 

Of course not. And this is what he got for all his efforts to avoid fate.

Jeno, who always kept a close distance with him, so that everytime his knees wobbled, he could nudge him up with an elbow and encouraged him to keep going with a nod. 

“Where are we going?” He finally opened his mouth and asked, when he felt not as grumpy as when they first stepped their respective foot onto the slick, cobblestoned street. 

“Surprise.”

“I’m done with surprises…” He mumbled underneath his breath. And to that, Jeno laughed.

“Harin is here.” 

Renjun’s eyes instantly shot wide open in excitement, which he instantly regretted because the next nudge Jeno gave with his elbow was filled with so much unsaid playfulness, he would’ve probably come off better just nudging the tip of Renjun’s blushing nose with his index finger. 

Though it wasn’t long before his grin was exchanged with a frown, especially after Renjun kept on walking in silence and didn’t display any ticks of behaviour that Jeno must’ve expected.

“Not going to ask about Yoobin’s whereabouts?”

“And _why_ would I want to do that.” 

Because Renjun knew, Renjun did remember (if he said he forgot he would be lying) telling Jeno to not worry about the odd stint of them cuddling to sleep that one time. But truth be told, he _was_ disturbed by it. It’s gone better, of course, as six years have passed since then. But his heart would pick up its pace everytime someone, anyone, _anything_ said something, even an unrelated thing, that reminded him of it.

So this time, the universe really overdid Herself because not only did She make it so that the perpetrator was standing _right there_ beside Renjun, She also set it up so that he was the one who _reminded Renjun in the first place._

“Oh.” Jeno responded, quite quizzical with Renjun’s cold take on his wife. “I thought you liked her.”

“If you don’t shut your mouth this instance I will turn back to the hotel.”

And so he did. Shut up, that was. So Renjun had no other choice but to stick with him as they trudge ahead on this confusing journey.

Jeno took a sudden sharp left, leading them off from the main street to something that looked more residential than anything else. Renjun was just about to ask him for his pathfinding prowess when he saw it. Off at the corner, a small cafe. And by small, he _really_ meant small. The takeaway area took nearly a third of the tiny establishment, and when they walked in, there was just a long wooden bench by one wall for people to sit around while they waited for their orders, and a tacky, garish mustard yellow sofa pushed against the other corner. A low table sat by its front and bending over it, doodling something on her sketchbook, was the lovely lady herself. 

Her hair has grown to her shoulders, cut in a chic, no-nonsense way that would’ve made her blend flawlessly to the quieter streets of this Germanic city. It flopped, animatedly, when she lifted her head to the sound of a door creaking open. And her smile too was animated. 

She looked so radiant Renjun could hear his heart breaking in two from how happy she made him feel. 

“Yo uncle Renjun!” This time, unlike the last time they met, she didn’t barrel down on him and tackle him to the ground. Perhaps it was because of the cramped location that they found themselves cooping up in, or maybe it was because she’s grown, and overt showings of emotion is considered as _lame,_ or whatnot. She only waved at him and excitedly patted the empty spot beside her on the sofa. 

“Pa told me he saw you at the hotel and I was like _‘no way!’_ ” Her words tumbled out of her like a pattering of rain against a glass ceiling, and as he sat beside her, Renjun had to bite down on his lips so hard because anything wider than the smile he had then would probably tear his cheeks in two. “I told him _‘Pa you have to take him to my cafe! I want to show him my cafe!’_ So here we are!” 

Renjun couldn’t stop himself from giving her hair a quick ruffle. And to her pout, he only laughed. “Look at you, all grown up with your own corner in this world.” Harin smiled at that, and hers looked exactly the same as her father’s. 

“I mean, he’s always away doing something so… I explored.”

“You explored…”

“Yea.”

“Alone?”

“I’m fourteen!”

“She’s fourteen!” Renjun pointed at Harin while looking incredulously at Jeno. “And you let her wander around a strange city _alone?!”_

He only responded with a shrug. How dare he. “It’s safe?”

Renjun opened his mouth, ready to spray Jeno with some hot, scalding berating regarding his less than poor method of handling a teenage daughter holidaying in a foreign country, when a similarly scalding cup of cappuccino was placed precariously yet boldly on his lap by the gentle lady of a barista.

“Drink,” she said with a wink. “I know you need it.”

“Do I look _that_ hungover?” He whispered to Harin, and they both giggled when Jeno glared at him for daring to say a less than exemplary word to her precious daughter. “What?! _You let her wander this city alone!”_

Surprisingly, Jeno let him pass with a little roll of his eyes. But that was before he reached his hand into the inner lining of his coat and walked outside after just taking the briefest peek to the caller’s ID emblazoned on the screen.

“See?” Harin mumbled, returning to her sketch while shrugging her shoulder in another tick that reminded Renjun of her father. “Always like that…”

“Remember. His _always like that_ is what took you here.” Renjun mumbled back, nose buried deep inside the froth of the most delicious cup of cappuccino he’s ever tasted. Or maybe he was just parched. Whatever.

“Whatever.” Harin parotted his thought. “I planned so much for this trip and he always does that.” Renjun could tell that the movement of her pencil mirrored her inner turmoil. Frantically flying across her page with a few short jabs here and there just to keep everything spicy. “Everytime…”

She then stopped, so suddenly that Renjun flinched a little. He was expecting another line from her. A question, maybe. A look. A smile. A _just kidding, did I spook you?_ But no. Harin only stared at the page with intense eyes while she worried at her lower lip. 

Sometimes she threw quick aside glances at Renjun, like she was struggling to keep a sentence from swinging off the tip of her tongue. But just when he was about to ask her for what was bothering her, Jeno barged into the cafe once again with an apologetic smile on his apologetically gorgeous face and Renjun said his silent apologies to Harin for having to let his attention wander elsewhere, as his shrivelled heart couldn’t bear to contain two of his most beloved at the same time. 

“Come on,” he shrugged his shoulder at the entrance, one arm still resting against the wooden door in a way so effortlessly charming Renjun found himself not being able to say the witty comment he was readying up to help notch a point on Harin’s scorecard. “Let’s grab something to eat.” _Is this how he acts when he’s feeling guilty?_ Renjun thought. _Because if so, we’re all doomed._

Seemed that Harin was also struggling with the same problem. Because she huffed, once and sharply, but she still tidied her stuff up with little to no complaints.

She did hang something on Jeno’s shoulder for his blunder, though. Two things, in fact. One was her drawing tote, that she draped so carefully over her father’s head, and another, was a demand.

“I want currywurst.”

“Lunch first, Harin.”

“Currywurst is lunch.” She mumbled, stomping her feet out of the cafe in haste while still finding time to smile at the kind barista lady.

Jeno gave him a little silent nod. One that said, _can you believe that? Hasn’t changed at all._

“As if you have,” Renjun replied, putting some coins on the table with his coffee cup before he gave Jeno’s cheek a firm pat and joined Harin in the elements of a wonderfully bright winter morning. 

He had a bad feeling that this was going to be the longest time he’ll spend with the Lee family yet. 

  
  


_

Renjun was forced to retract his dread. Because lunch was wonderful. 

Very, _very_ wonderful.

Harin dispelled his earlier suspicion of her turning into a moody, edgy teenager with a vengeance against the world because her smiles, and the way she brought him along for tales that he’s missed since the last time they met, were far too _radiant_ to be put beneath a useless sheen of grime. Useless, because later on she’d have to waste precious years of her young adult trying to scrape it off her windows just so she could see the world as it's supposed to be seen.

He learned it the hard way.

But cloud came to pass across her expanse of bright blue sky when Jeno’s phone buzzed just when they were nearing the end of their main course. 

The little nudge Renjun gave his shin was a way for him to tell Jeno that he _mustn’t take it._

But the apologetic smile, the same one he gave like at the entrance of the cafe, told them that _he’s sorry, he has to._

Harin only rolled her eyes at that, before putting her elbow on the table and plopped her head on the palm of her hand while she harshly took her phone from her back pocket. She looked like a white hot coal that was forced to cool down before it had the chance to burn. Because yes, he could tell. All of those animated stories, the expectant look she gave him and Jeno, the smiles, the way she fidgets, the blush on her cheeks and how her breath was hitching into a light giggle at the end of each sentence. She was building up to something. She was going to tell them something. 

And Jeno, that dumb idiot, just had to ruin it, didn’t he?

“What’s up?” Before he could discern if what he was about to do was teetering too close to the line of something a stranger, essentially, shouldn’t do, Renjun found himself already rattling off his curiosity to this sculpture of fascination. 

“The ceiling.”

To imagine that Jeno truly did create a tiny, female version of himself. Renjun felt like he was being sucked back to their junior highschool years where all they did was sulk at the library and bitch about their respective family members. Back to being fifteen. Imagine _that._

Harin’s interest was piqued when she heard something she must’ve rarely encountered in her youthful age. The sound of an adult giggling so mischievously they appeared childish. 

They stared at each other for a long beat. Not as a kid and an adult, not as an uncle and his unofficially adopted niece. Just as a friend. A friend separated by time, that’s true, but a friend nevertheless. Harin sighed her defeat when Renjun tilted his head and repeated to her his earlier question, just silently, this time. _What’s up?_

“There’s this kid at school.” She said, hesitantly, in what sounded more like a grunted mumble of annoyance than anything else.

But when she was greeted only with silence from Renjun’s side, she flicked her eyes at him, and flopped her arms down to her side when she saw that he was still looking at her with the same challenging, taunting, and disbelieving expression.

“She’s a girl, okay?!” Harin hissed through gritted teeth, and Renjun found himself mellowing out so rapidly under her look of desperation he could’ve just been a marshmallow melted on the side of the street. Harin, seemingly exhausted now that she has no more secrets left to fuel her intensity, also sunk into her seat. “A girl…” She whispered, then cringed, as if she was waiting for Renjun to either make a ruckus about it or lose his shit by berating her for oversharing.

He nearly did. He really did want to lecture her on the dangers of overly trusting strangers. Because he was just that. A stranger. They’ve met only three times before so what was she doing, sharing something so personal, so deeply ingrained in herself, essentially sharing her own _heart_ to someone who she didn’t even _know?_

Who was she to think that he would be supportive, that he would agree with her, that he was open to the love she’s feeling, coursing through her veins? Who was she to assume that he wouldn’t just run out of the door and tell her father about it, who, Renjun was sure, still hasn’t a lick of clue about this. Who was she to _burden him_ with this knowledge? She didn’t know him. 

But Renjun couldn’t do all that. How could he? 

Because oh, to be trusted by someone, to be trusted by a beloved. For someone to share to you that they’re in love. Renjun saw in her, himself, and a chance of redemption from the sins of all parents that came before them.

She’s staring at Renjun how he did when he himself told his mom and dad about who he was. The hope and longing. The trust, that they, and now _he,_ never deserved. And in Renjun’s case, eventually betrayed.

So now he has the obligation, the _need,_ to give her something that he never got. 

An unbroken line of love. That’s all he’s ever wanted. And that shall be all he was to give. 

He gave her a smile, and nothing more. Maybe a little nudge on her arm, but there were no questions, no congratulations, no condescending nods or sympathetic hums that if anything, would only ever worsen the atmosphere. He only smiled at her, full of understanding, and waited until she regained her strength and was comfortable enough to speak once more. 

“I want to get her something.”

“You want to get her something…” Renjun pondered, and Harin nodded with him.

“Something cute, something… special.” She plopped her hands onto her face, seemingly embarrassed with the fact that she allowed someone to take a peek at the _cheesier_ part of herself. “I don’t know what, though.” Her groan was muffled by her palm and she only peeked shyly at Renjun until he showed her that it’s _okay_ to be cheesy, it’s _okay_ to be romantic, with a little wink. 

_Come on,_ it said. _You should know better than to be shy of your romanticism around me._ “What seems to be the problem? Picking a gift is easy, no?”

She meeped. “I don’t have the money to do it.” 

“Oh, I thought you have a platinum credit card with you all the time.”

“Ma wouldn’t allow that,” she huffed, pulling her arms back and folding them hastily on top of her tummy. “Asking Pa is also a no go.”

“Why?” He asked, before Harin shot him a look that silenced him. Of course. However clumsy he was at doing it, he was _still_ her father after all. 

“Well then, _we_ can do it,” he said, flicking his index finger around so it pointed at her, then at him, to and fro, to and fro, “we can get her something sweet.” 

She seemed to still be a little adamant about it. “Pa will question me about it.”

And to that, Renjun gave her an easy wink. “I’ll find a lie. I’m good at it.”

Harin pleasantly smiled when he said that, but not for long. Silence fell to their table, and her expression soured so much it brought back the clouds to her brilliant sky.

“I’m scared.” Her voice wavered when she spoke next, and her eyes darted away to an unspecified point beyond his left shoulder. She must’ve been looking for her father, afraid that he would cut his phone call short and barge in through the restaurant’s entrance and ruin their little confessional booth.

But was she really looking at her father? Or was she looking at the shadow her grandparents cast on him long after they'd beaten him to submission and gave them the life they so coveted? Did she know? Will she ever know? Will he ever tell her?

Because Jeno hasn’t even told him. 

His _I can’t_ was the only words left behind in the echo chamber that birthed thousands of conspiracies. 

Renjun never really learned how to tame the questions gnawing at the back of his head. Why? Why? _Why? Why choose to live a lie when you can be happy? Why would you ever betray yourself when you can live your truth?_

Renjun has always resented Jeno for that. For his cowardice. 

But then, as he sat there, looking into the eyes of a human who wouldn’t exist if Jeno was just a little bit braver than he ever was, Renjun started to wonder if maybe, maybe it was time for him to know. 

With a dead father and a delirious mother, _too late_ should be the last of Renjun’s worries. 

“Use your brain.” He said. And to that, Harin crooked her eyebrows. _Brain? A romantic like you?_ But before she could offer him any rebuttals, Renjun raised his hand and asked to be allowed to finish. She nodded. 

“Hearts talk, and they talk loud. You don’t have to always listen to them.” He leaned closer, and looked right into her eyes. Allowing her to _know._ The little, joyful gasp she took when Renjun smiled in confirmation brough Spring back to his heart. “You’ll know when you’re ready. Don’t let anyone take it away from you.”

It seemed fitting that he opened to her just as she did to him. Law of equivalence, wasn’t it? You give something and you’ll get something in return. It was an act that for him seemed so simple, so no-nonsense, so… _natural_ that he was surprised when Harin suddenly jumped to her feet and came to his side to give him a hug. A quick, yet achingly affectionate hug.

“Thank you,” she whispered to him. She gave him a little peck on his cheeks before making her way down to the toilet with little skips in her steps. 

His eyes were fixed to the wisp of her path that he didn’t realise when Jeno returned and took the seat in front of him.

A light touch at the back of his hand brough Renjun back to him.

“What’s wrong?” Jeno asked, the worry on his face as clear as the midday sky waiting for them outside.

Renjun touched his cheek, then. More instinctually than anything, and instead of finding the usual sliver of tear, he found himself facing against a smile that complimented the warmth that Harin so graciously lent to him. 

He was smiling. He was smiling so widely he must’ve looked deranged.

“Nothing.” He closed himself off with a giggle.

And to Jeno’s disbelieved insistence to tell him the truth _(‘you guys must’ve talked about me, didn’t you?!’)_ , Renjun kept his mouth shut. He only laughed at Jeno’s growing annoyance together with Harin when she returned to their side. Close. Huddled together. Like they were sharing an unspoken inside secret nobody else but them was supposed to know. 

It’s true that this might be his curse. To want something that he might never have. To want a life that he was never allowed to even imagine. To love people he was never supposed to love.

But as they were walking down the street of a foreign country, sharing a cup of mulled wine and stuffing their face even further with junk food and sweet desserts until they had to sit at a bus stop as their legs could no longer cooperate, Renjun could learn to imagine. 

“How about this?” It was their fifth trinket store that they went to after hopping to two different Christmas markets in wildly different neighborhoods. Renjun quickly learned, almost three hours ago, that Harin was a picky shopper. Impeccable taste, only with no money to match it. But, being the resilient horse that he is, everytime Renjun saw something that fit with their budget and looked even just remotely _‘European-ly romantic,’_ as she herself said, he would never fail to point it out to her. This time, he picked up a little lacquered snuff box, coloured a regal green. “You told me she has long hair, didn’t you? She can put her hair pins here.”

Harin’s eyes, for the first time since they started their secret trinket hunting, lit up in excitement. “It’s beautiful!” She took the box away from Renjun and weighed it on her palm. “And it _is_ very European.”

“... but?”

She put down the green box carefully back on the velveteen display table, and picked something two rows to its left. A light blue snuff box decorated with intricate filigree and a centerpiece filled with a sprawling landscape painting done in a romantic artstyle. “But _this_ is her.” When she said it, Harin’s eyes twinkled so much they _were_ stars. 

Though, they dimmed a little when she carefully flipped the box around and saw the price printed on a tag below it. _“Holy shit.”_

“Let me s,- holy _shit.”_

The two of them were so busy ruminating with themselves at the side of the stall that they didn’t realise Jeno, sneaking behind him, taking a look at the, honestly, quite modest price tag, and taking a note out of his coat pocket before giving it to the vendor. 

Well, _Harin_ didn’t notice. Renjun did, of course. But he kept up his act because Jeno just shot him with a really cheeky wink and a _shush._

Jeno slipped one arm around Harin’s shoulders, and one, serendipitously, around Renjun’s waist, before he dragged the two of them off to the center of the market.

“P… Pa! _I haven’t paid for this!”_ Harin’s eyes blasted open into two perfectly round saucers, and she was just about to run back to the store to return her _accidentally_ stolen goods when their secret play bursted with a loud ringing of laughter.

She only stared at them for a little while as she allowed their prank to run its course. A thin sheet of teenaged disgust pulled up in front of her face, before she turned around in a huff and continued on her path back towards the snuff box vendor. 

“Oh, come on, _come on.”_ Jeno caught up to her, half laughing and half pleading, “Pa is sorry, hm?”

Her pout stayed on her face permanently, even when Jeno still tried his best to make her smile. It was only when she shot a look at Renjun and he gave her a shrug that he let her pretense fall. _Let it go._

Jeno looked so glad when a smile finally crawled back onto her face. “It’s really beautiful. You have excellent eyes, you know that?” He said, swiping and tucking back a little bit of hair sticking across her nose, “take good care of it.”

The gladness was exchanged for a pleasant surprise when Harin dazzled him with a quick hug. Something similar that she gave Renjun back at the restaurant. Short, sweet, and devastatingly lovely. 

Jeno’s gaze met his, somehow, in that split second between beats of one’s heart. And just for a second, he knew. 

_He knew._

  
  


_

When they returned back to their hotel, it was thirty minutes past eight, and the sun was long gone. Harin too, has long gone into the mind of a tired teenager that couldn’t control her crankiness but still was able to feel guilty for acting out, so they didn’t say anything when she huffed ahead of them to the lift and closed the door on their faces. 

They also didn’t say anything when the door opened soon after and she mumbled a sorry and a _please understand_ shrug. 

Which was a miracle.

Because they crumbled into amused giggles the second time that door closed. 

“She’s still a riot.” Renjun wheezed as he went to press the button to call for another lift. 

“Tell me about it.” 

The door in front of Jeno dinged open and he stepped in, still riddled with giggles. But even then, he remembered to be courteous and held it open until Renjun was safely snuggled at one corner. Ever the gentleman.

In the silence, Jeno looked at him, and his gaze was seemingly seeking for that split second of unexplainable _knowledge_ that they traded. A look that contained information from the thousands of days that they could not possibly remember, all of them, each memory singled out in photorealistic clarity. But before he could recreate it, the lift made another ding, and Renjun saw the number displayed on the screen at the top right corner.

Twelve.

His floor.

“How do you know?” 

Jeno shrugged, so casually. “I have my ways.”

“Since when?” Renjun asked. In a hush, he walked to the number panel and pressed on the close button. Silence rang in their ears when the doors creaked to a stop, broken only by a little smile coming from his conversational partner.

“I don’t understand you.”

“Since when did you turn to be this… calm.”

Each day he spent with Jeno, it’s been a day enveloped in a hurricane. A raging storm of fear, longing, pain, jealousy, everything. But never calm. Never acceptance. 

To think that _Jeno,_ a guy who used to not even scream when he stub his toe, has beaten him to the end stage of grief? _God fucking dammit._

_He_ was the messy one here. _He was._ Day drinking, dead end job (he promised himself that he won’t ever go corporate but _here he was)_. Hopeless romantic life. Dry skin.

He was forty one, god dammit, and dreams are what his garbage bags were made of. 

But _dear lord._ Did he not also deserve some form of closure? 

All he ever wanted was freedom. And a loving figure, whatever, whoever they are, to show him that he’s alright. His choices, his sacrifices. All _right._ Was this what he got for being selfish? Living the husk of a life that he once longed for? Did he unknowingly agree to buy his truth with his dream of forming a lasting companionship?

Everything ended in threes. His job. His passion. His house lease. The foolish idea that he could love another the same he did with Jeno. 

_ You’re never fully here.  _ He remembered someone once said. A nameless, faceless guy from a long string of  _ hookups-but-maybe-there’s-something-more  _ that he picked up over the years.  _ I looked into your eyes and saw nearly nothing.  _

His romantic dream. Wasted on waiting. 

And the day they spent together, the three of them, only cemented it further. 

The more he couldn’t have him, the more tempting he seemed. But everytime the fruit hung low enough for him to reach, he would turn a blind eye and imagine himself cutting the whole thing down. Because it wasn’t his to take, was it? It was never his to take. Jeno was never his. Never.

Not even back then, when they were together.  
  
Jeno has always been owned by something else, even back then. Even now. And forever.

But would that stop him? Could that stop the love within him from burning so brightly it thawed the very last patches of frost on his purple heart?

Never. 

Sadly, never.

“I _do_ want you to know me better.” Renjun finally said, when the silence had grown suffocating enough that his breath came in hitches. “But not now.”

Renjun offered him his hand. An upturned palm shaking with the weight of his whole entire sense of self pushing down on it and his heart, working overtime to hold it up the entire time he finally allowed himself to just _touch_ the seasonal fruit that always grew on a branch so kindly within his arm’s reach. Jeno took it, and he gasped. 

How soft, still. How gentle. 

For him to be allowed to feel something so deep, even then. What a miracle. 

“Wait for me.” Renjun whispered. Because anything more and his heart, his foolish, disloyal heart, would’ve begged for things he’ll never be able to forgive. 

Jeno smiled. Under the warm light of the lift, he hasn’t aged a day. “Haven’t I always.”

And the lift dinged open for them one last time

* * *

**\- Year 24 -**

**.**

_“Are you nervous?”_

_Jeno didn’t realise that he’s been staring, unblinking, at his own reflection for the last minute or so until Yoobin appeared from behind him with a smile and an encouraging pat on his back._

_“Nauseous.” He tried to flush out his nerves by responding with a light laughter, but it didn’t work. Not even for the tiniest bit. The butterflies were still flying inside his stomach, and the glimpses of multicoloured glimmer had begun invading the corners of his vision._

_He would’ve started hyperventilating if Yoobin didn’t come to the rescue, pulling him away from their en suite bathroom and pushing him down to the living room. Helping him dazedly put on his coat, and opening the front door for him. This deer in the headlight, eyes set wide in panic and juvenile excitement._

_It was terribly ironic. All of his neuroses were caused by the great desire to go to this appointment._

_Yet without her, he wouldn’t have possibly been able to do it._

_“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you there?” She asked, clearly worried that Jeno would first be abducted by aliens or be possessed by demons before he could arrive at the destination written at the back of a discreet season’s greetings postcard._

_He memorised the address to what he learned was a Chinese restaurant by heart, but he still couldn’t part with it, out of worry that he’ll somehow develop amnesia and forgot, and so Jeno decided to keep the card in the front pocket of his jeans. He would from time to time reach onto the calling card and palm it, not stopping until he felt its edges dig sharply into the pad of his fingers._

_“No.” He refused when his consciousness came back in rare blinks of clarity. “No, I need time to think.”_

_“Well, just make sure not to get hit by any car,” she scoffed, tidying up his lapel with a few firm swats of her fingers, “Harin has been looking forward to tomorrow’s dinner for weeks.”_

_Jeno gave her a curt smile. Nervous. Awkward. She responded with a little roll of her head._

_She reminded him so much of Harin._

_Of course. Like mother, like daughter, right?_

_“I will.”_

  
  


_

Jeno arrived at the Chinese restaurant fifteen minutes early and he was contemplating to just wander aimlessly around the block, two or three times, or at least until his entrance could be seen as being fashionably late, rather than embarrassingly early.

But he failed to even _start_ enacting his plan, because his gaze fell onto the figure sitting facing the window, and he was trapped. Renjun, sitting there, leaning on the table with a smile. A _knowing_ smile. 

Renjun nudged his head towards the entrance for the restaurant and Jeno was defeated. He had nowhere else to go. No more reason to run.

He has to admit that he found it weird, the fact that he’s so anxious about this meeting of theirs. _Meeting._ Not serendipity, not bad luck, not fate. Renjun sent him an early Christmas card with a strange address at the back and Jeno knew instantly what it meant.

This was Renjun, allowing Jeno to know him better.

He found it weird because wasn’t this something that he’s always wanted? 

Maybe, he dreaded it _because_ he coveted this opportunity so much. Like how he’ll always sweat three times more than usual prior to any meetings with his key suppliers. When he has a giant, favourite project in the pipeline, and he knows he only has one shot to make it right. (And maybe he also was reminded of the disaster that happened 6 years ago when he did a similar thing by purposefully making their incremental meetings deliberate and ended up insulting Renjun beyond repair.) 

Renjun didn’t want this. For nearly two decades Renjun didn’t want this. When Renjun promised Jeno for a prospect, a _possibility_ that he would invite him back to his life the last time they met, Jeno spent months afterwards with a giddy smile on his face. Stupid. People called him an idiot because they thought he was going through his second honeymoon phase. Perhaps. Perhaps he was. 

So to be here? Called by him? By a Renjun who decided to no longer hang their meeting on fate even though it _was_ still happening on the one day where fate seemed to always bring them together, no matter what? 

When he sat in front of Renjun, a smiling, beaming Renjun who so gently touched the back of his hand when he pulled his chair closer, Jeno realised one crucial detail of his condition.

It was not actually fear that served as a base of his anxiety. It was joy. It was too much joy. 

So much so that it dictated him to reach out and take Renjun’s hand into his, which, miraculously, he didn’t fight. He jolted slightly in shock, and Jeno was afraid that like so many times before, he’ll pull away. It was then a pleasant surprise when Renjun took it in stride and compromised by bringing their linked hands down to the shadow of their table. 

_Too little, still,_ he thought. _But more than enough._

  
  


_

At first, Jeno was afraid that this specially curated meeting would be awkward. No third party, no excuses to keep up a facade of small talks. This was them really seeing each other to _genuinely_ catch up. And how would they start to pick something to talk about from the countless things that's happened to them in the span of nearly thirty years?

Turns out, he didn’t have to worry. Renjun first opened his mouth, telling him about how he finally managed to escape his office life and has now gone back to teaching at a community art class. Then Jeno joined in with a tale of his own, about Harin’s art exhibition and how she managed to put in an inappropriate reference into her painting without anyone noticing. And then Renjun would chime in with a little anecdote about the peculiar elementary kids he once taught, then Jeno, then back to him, then Jeno again, just like that. Yes, it was more of a light banter than the deeper conversation Jeno was hoping for. But they have to start somewhere, right? A back and forth was perfect for where they were, as they both filled each other in with the pieces of puzzles that, turns out, each of them has been keeping safely in the case that the other would like to hear about it. 

Renjun even took out his phone, once or twice, scrolling down his notes app to jog his memory for stories of his life that he _knew_ Jeno would enjoy. 

“I should’ve brought my journal with me,” Jeno said, when Renjun lost his train of thought in the middle of his tale because of a tangential joke and had to open his phone once more to get his pointers.

“You still use a journal?” Renjun raised his eyebrows without taking his eyes from the screen of his phone. “Fossil…”

“Shut up, hipster.” 

Renjun laughed and returned his attention to Jeno, setting aside his phone to the far edge of the table. Screen side down, of course. “We’re too old for name callings.” 

“We’re never too old for anything.”

He handwaved Jeno’s clunky words of wisdom with a scoff. “Whatever, Confucious. So here’s what happened next,-”

They _finally_ vacated the premises nearly four hours after they finished their meals and five, if you count the time it took for them to settle on the food that they were going to share. Two desserts and one last appetizer plate later, and they were ready to pay.

The cashier lady looked a little sad that the sole contributor for her sales that afternoon had just closed their bill. But still, the fact that she no longer had to hear loud laughter and long monologues from two people she didn’t know must’ve brought a little bit of happiness to her, no? 

“Where should we go next?” Renjun asked when they stepped out of the restaurant and found themselves idly standing around near the pedestrian crossing area. 

Jeno gave him a little, shy shrug. “I don’t know. It’s been forever since I went on a date.”

Renjun’s pleasant smile was instantly petrified into something that showcased the dread that, all this time, has only ever been felt as a constant undercurrent beneath all of his words and actions. Because however thick Renjun managed to hide it with his animated stories, sometimes Jeno could still see it. The gut churning fear from the mystery and uncertainty of their situation. 

They’ve begun aimlessly walking to the opposite direction of where he came from, snaking their way further into the neighborhood. Jeno didn’t mind it, though, getting lost at a moment like this. Because the other option, standing still while having such a conversation, not allowing one’s anxiety to flow together with the movements of their limbs, was terrifying to even think about. “Yoobin and you…” Renjun finally spoke after they’ve traversed two blocks in silence. “Everything is good, right?”

Jeno contemplated the words rolling around the tip of his tongue. Should he say it? He wanted to. But should he? Saying it would move them forward. But he knew better than anyone else that Renjun only has two reactions to someone forcing him to move when he’s not ready to be moved.

Fight, or flight. 

And Jeno didn’t really want to deal with any of those in the middle of a public space.

But then he noticed that Renjun was staring at him, and that he was expecting an answer. The determination in his eyes told Jeno that he was willing to force it out of him if it comes to that. And he wanted an answer. Not a lie.

Renjung could detect a lie from a mile away. And Jeno knew that Renjun’s reaction to a lie is 100% volcanic rage. 

So he took a gamble, and told him the truth.

“She knows.” 

Renjun stared at him with wide-eyed shock, and for a long time, he was petrified on the spot. It was as if he was just doused with a giant bucket of cold water packed full of ice and reminders that they _shouldn’t_ be doing this right now. Then, all of a sudden, Jeno’s greatest fear came to life when Renjun booked off to god knows where. Taking off running to a random direction that, unfortunately for him, led them to a dead end alley where Jeno could then easily corner him between a mouldy wall and an empty industrial garbage disposal. 

It was easy to catch up to him. The road was slippery, and both of them knew that one wrong slip could’ve easily meant a tedious trip to an ER. So it was less of a chase than a little tip-toeing wiggle from side to side until Renjun realised he had nowhere else to go but to turn around and face his fears. 

Jeno felt so very devastated that it ended up like this. With him, being one of Renjun’s fears. The way he looked at him broke his heart. Like a wounded cat who only knew hands as a source of pain. No longer remembering that the same hands could be more than capable of love. When Renjun flinched after he took up his wrists, he slackened his hold. Jeno tried his best to _be_ calm so that Renjun could mimic him. To be gentle, so he didn’t have the need to be afraid anymore. “Listen, _listen.”_

But still, even with all his efforts, Renjun swatted Jeno’s fingers away from his hands and pressed himself against the opposing wall. Arms crossed in front of them, he tried to make himself as compact and flat against it as possible, all the while his crazy eyes _dared_ Jeno to take a step closer to him. 

“She knew, she knew since the first time we all met.” He took the edge of Renjun’s scarf and began to fidget with it. Because no matter how anxious Renjun’s unpredictability was making him feel, without resilience (and common sense), he wouldn’t be there, would he? “Remember? In Bali?”

“ _I remember where the fuck it was!”_ Renjun said. Exasperated, he pulled his scarf away from Jeno and stormed past him so that now he was pacing around the narrow lane. He was biting his nail, and numerous times it looked like he was going to spray his frustration to Jeno in a scathing yell. But each time, Renjun would go back to worry on his fingers before finally his seams could no longer contain the words he was ruminating and he crumbled to the damp ground with a defeated sob.

“But you… are you… are you still… together?”

Jeno was silent for a long while before he nodded, eyes avoiding to graze anywhere near Renjun’s deathly pale face in fear that he _too_ will join in on a breakdown of his own. “We have to.” Someone has to always be the better one between the two of them. So this was him, trying his best. “We decided to.”

It was when he managed to swallow the draft of bile back down his throat that he was brave enough to look at Renjun. Who still looked as strung up as a human being could be, but there was then a thin smile hanging on the corner of his lips. 

“You won’t let her know, won’t you?” He sighed as he picked himself up to his feet, causing the precious smile to fall. He looked so weary, struggling to get back on his feet. Going past his physicalities and giving hints of how the world has treated him. “Harin?” 

It was great that they could find a common thread running through all of their fractured hearts, stringing them along, even if just barely. As without it, they would’ve been drowning in a muddy pothole so long ago.

“Not for a long time.” _Not until she experiences life as we have._

Renjun appeared to be preparing himself to say something, to _do_ something, but everything crumbled when the back door for what seemingly was a western family restaurant banged open and the two of them had to quickly adopt a mannerism that won’t make anyone suspicious. Old habits die hard and all that. 

They waited until the chef and one of his assistants had settled at the other end of the alley to have their smoke break before neither of them was brave enough to continue. It turned out to be Renjun, who stole the opportunity to graciously step away from Jeno’s offer who, yes, might be implied, but has existed for so long in both of their minds that a knowing look acted as a clear enough invitation to be discerned, before then being rejected completely. “I can’t.”

Jeno took one sharp inhale, before allowing it to disperse out of him in a thin stream of white mist. “Then we won’t.”

Renjun gave him one sure nod, and pushed himself away from the dewy wall. The moment he stepped a foot over the border of light, he was back to the person he was before they entered the alley. 

“Can we go make a quick stop at an art supply store? I forgot to get some presents for my colleagues.” He said after powering through a few steps in front of Jeno, casually looking back at him with an uncaring expression. As if he was implying that it’s okay if Jeno said no, because he’d decided long before they met that he has quite some errands to run in the city center anyway. Well, _as if_ indeed.

“Whatever. I have nothing better to do anyway.” Jeno played along and gave him an unamused shrug, only betraying his true intention when he caught up with him and reached out to discreetly link their fingers beneath the swathe of Renjun’s knitted scarf. 

Renjun masked his surprise with a cough into the bundle, which did a great job at hiding his involuntary smile. But the blush that creeped onto his cheeks carried with it a genuine crinkle to his eyes. 

He couldn’t hide his happiness when Jeno went to give his fingers a reassuring squeeze.

Jeno looked ahead of them, down the street sparsely populated by people slipping in and out of stores playing tired, predictable Christmas tunes, and found his heart swelling to twice its size with joy. The mundanity of it, the normalcy. Doing some last minute Christmas shopping. Something that they never did when they could and only regretted now _._

To think that he was having a first date after twenty years. He couldn’t have imagined it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, when i chose this prompt as my second prompt "oh this is gonna be fun! this is gonna be a walk in the park!!"
> 
> Me, when I'm writing it "this is the hardest story that i've ever written what the fuck was i thinking when i tried to finish this in two weeks."
> 
> Me, right now: //plays animal crossing to escape reality//
> 
> basically this story is a monster of its own kind and i love it but i fear it at the same time.


	5. 27 ; 30

**\- Year 27 -**

**.**

He didn’t even try.

He couldn’t even remember what day it was. 

Renjun was burned out as he’d worked on his exhibition piece for the last twelve hours that he decided to wander around his neighborhood after a very late lunch. 

He found himself walking aimlessly through a park, hypnotised by the sound of his boots crunching against gravel and frozen ice from last night’s snow storm. The air was pleasant, almost warm, even. As he followed the dancing pattern created by the roof of barren tree branches and orange sunset, Renjun unwound his scarf from around his neck and allowed himself to breathe freely for once. 

At a distance he saw a figure sitting on a long park bench. Arms neatly folded on their lap. Beige coat draped across their shoulders. 

For some reason, he instantly knew who it was.

And for some reason, Renjun still greeted him.

Jeno looked up to him after prying his eyes away from the single point at a distance that his eyes had been transfixed on for god knows how long. There was an expectant smile waiting on his lips. 

“I’ve been searching for you.” He said, so casually. As if the mystery of how the universe works was equivalent to him asking Renjun about how he found the weather to be. Pleasant? Or too frigid? 

“I haven’t.” Renjun wanted to sound a little bit apologetic but he didn’t find any inside his heart. They _will_ see each other on that day, on Christmas Eve, no matter what, anyway. If not now, later. If not later, then it must’ve been a sign that one of them has died because fate has shown that time and distance and active avoidance wouldn’t be a hindrance to Her work. 

“But look at how easily you found me.” They were so comfortable by now at the machinations of fate that it has become an unofficial third party in all their meetings. The person that led them to each other, no matter what. 

Renjun joined him on the bench and allowed nature to reclaim them into her silent embrace. 

With their synchronising breaths, Renjun thoughts began to flow. 

They’ve spent years, decades, growing and maturing as human beings of their own. Building themselves to become someone unrecognizable if they were to be seen by their younger counterparts.

But everytime they meet on their alternate time stream, on their very own star time, barely a day has passed since they last saw each other. Barely a week since their relationship crumbled. 

Looking at Jeno’s face made him feel as if he’d slept one day and woke up as a middle aged man who’s just learned to be content with his life yesterday. 

It was worse on that day, as in a span of three years Jeno seemed to have learned the act of not bothering to dye his hair any longer. He appeared to be… so different to the last time Renjun saw him. 

It was the first time he found Jeno to be so foreign. As before, time seemed to stop when it came to his appearance. Just a few wrinkles here and there, smile lines, crow feet, the crinkles around his nose getting deeper with the years. 

But Jeno then looked so mature. Soft around the edges from the stream of time wearing him down. He sat on the bench with a slight hunch on his back and his silver grey hair blending together with the speckles of snow perching on the branches. 

His glasses, though, were the same. 

And the eyes behind it, haven’t aged a day. 

The faint youthfulness that radiated out of him was translatable through the way he shyly reached out to Renjun’s lap in order to capture his hand in an awkward hold. 

_Fitting,_ Renjun thought fondly, _this is only our second date after all._

“How’s everything?” He finally asked when the time to speak had come. 

“Harin just went off to college.” Jeno beamed, and the pride in his expression was unmistakable. Though there was a little bit of melancholy when he spoke next. “She loves it so much over there she’s skipping this holiday season.” 

“How’s Yoobin?” The question came so naturally to Renjun, so easily that it wasn’t _him_ whose grip got tighter with nerves. It was Jeno’s.

“She’s great.” He answered with a nod. But Renjun quickly learned that his panic wasn’t caused by anything negative. Jeno panicked because he thought Renjun was deliberately hurting himself just for the sake of small talk. He relaxed his hold when Renjun gave the back of his hand a few reassuring pats. “She’s wondering when she can meet you again.” 

He smiled at that. Sincerely, because they all deserved it. 

“Soon.”

Renjun studied Jeno’s face while they spent what felt to be an eternity looking into each other’s eyes. This man, who Renjun remembered through the rainbow of emotions that he allowed him to feel, that Jeno _taught_ him to feel. He knew first hand how hard it was to deal with an emotion you’ve never before encountered, especially pain. Unfamiliar pain could’ve wracked your life anew before you even knew what was going on. And so he’s thanked Jeno, quietly, religiously, for giving him vaccination of all feelings imaginable. Embed it to his genetic memory that he could recall, each heartache, each giddiness, each sleepless longing, like cards stuck in an always circulating holodex. 

Forever haunting Renjun when he found reminders within new people he met. Brightening his day when he remembered the way to still let himself loose in the midst of indiscernible chaos.

Jeno has taught him so many things regarding his emotion. The minute differences between each and everyone of them. But whenever they were together, the compartments Renjun had set up failed in containing them and they would always mix together inside his heart, into an indiscernible, nebulous cloud of mysterious ache that only ever lasted long enough for him to admire, but not to study. 

A few years prior and he would’ve taken Jeno’s offer. His younger self, his angrier self, would’ve turned a blind eye to his inner conflict and took Jeno in with open arms, as he hoped that he could in turn hurt Jeno as much as he had hurt him. 

But now? Now he’s unlearned his hatred, and in its process, unlearned the way of showing his love. 

_This_ love, in particular. Young, warm, and blindingly searching. 

Jeno’s hands holding his, those thumbs circling around the back of his hand alone was enough to constrict his breathing. Those smiles alone were enough to make his heart flutter. 

His eyes, speaking of hope and promises and compromises, lured him into a trap that paralised him into a crumple of wet tissue rag thrown unceremoniously on the floor. 

Three years he had the chance to process it, to give Jeno a definite answer. They were three years wasted. 

Because he’s completely missed the lesson on how to want. He’s skipped the class that taught him how to act when his desire was granted by the universe, by the exact person who promised it in the first place. He saw a wish fulfilled and the only thing he’s learned to do was to deny it. Deny, deny, deny. Until three years passed and they met once again and Renjun had to go through his life’s kaleidoscope of regret in less than twenty four hours. 

So when Jeno asked, “have your answer changed?”

He could only answer with his guilt. 

“I can’t.”

Jeno’s smile after he gave him his answer was heart wrenching. He accepted it so easily it _couldn’t’ve been._ How many sleepless nights did Jeno spend training himself to acknowledge another _no_ after waiting for more than half a decade? How many anxiety riddled showers where he spent fifteen minutes too many, staring blankly at his reflection, playing every single possible outcome for when he has the chance to once again ask the question, and live, and relive, and _relive_ all the negative scenarios?

But ah. What is anxiety when he can fall asleep beside someone he cares and wake up to them caring for you. True companionship afforded him his strength. Could it also lend Jeno some understanding? 

Because it was unfair, as for Renjun, companionship is something he had once in an increment of three years. The rest, he just realised, were poor attempts of trying to recapture the bliss that Jeno gave him just by being there. 

“Come, it’s late. I’ll walk you to your house.” All of a sudden, probably because he thought Renjun’s silence meant he wished for their meeting to end, Jeno got up to his feet and began stretching his legs in an adorably clumsy way. Without knowing why, Renjun reached out to Jeno and grabbed onto the sleeves of his coat. 

_Wait,_ he wanted to say, but his mouth was paralysed in a way that made him look like an idiot. Open mouthed and clueless, nearly drooling. 

Jeno too was about to open his own mouth to ask him what’s wrong, but his attention was piqued by the specks of white that began to float down the greying sky. “It’s snowing!” He said, over and over, in an excitement that hasn’t been seen by Renjun for so long he forgot it could exist. 

But Renjun didn’t have the time for that, not then. Because he has something to say, and if he didn’t say it now, it’ll never come. It’ll stay a secret forever and Renjun didn’t think that he would be able to contain such an enormous burden inside his debilitating heart any longer.

So he tugged at Jeno’s sleeves, like a shy child, hoping that he'd notice. 

When he didn’t, Renjun resolved to place his trembling hands against those rosy cheeks. They were warm against his icy fingers, and Jeno let out a gasp so beautiful Renjun forgot what he was going to say.

Those eyes, those ageless eyes looked into his and Renjun forgot who he even was. 

In panic, Renjun yanked Jeno forward and captured him inside a hug. Because he knew that he could say it.

He could say it.

He just needed a little bit more time. 

The words were there, at the tip of his tongue, pressing against his teeth. At the tip of his fingers, cold against the warmth of his nape. At the tip of his nose, pressing into the nook of Jeno’s neck. 

It was at the edge of his very being, calling out for Jeno to please, please, _please understand._ Understand, without him having to say it. Understand, so Jeno could help him in sounding out the feeling that was threatening to engulf him inside a world so bright it was painful.

Because the more he wanted to tell Jeno, the more his jaw clenched, his teeth gritted so hard it began to chatter. His hands were formed to fists that clutched Jeno's coat into bunches, which he hoped would somehow turn into an anchor that could bind them together. 

_“It’s okay.”_ The ringing of his ears was interrupted by a repeating noise slowly seeping through, gradually gaining more volume and clarity until it was the only thing Renjun could hear. He initially thought it was the sound of branches rustling against the winter wind. But it was too warm. Way too warm to be Winter. 

“It’s okay, Renjun.” It was Jeno. Of course, it was him. Whispering calm words of reassurance that slowly brought him back to the moment that they were sharing. _It’s okay if we can’t have the future,_ he seemed to say, _we have this. Let us._

Renjun’s breath hisses when he took it, and in turn, his words shivered. But it was better than nothing. Better than having to spend another three years reliving a should’ve and would’ve that he knew could never have happened. Because courage was not something that he had in abundance.

“It’s dark,” he forced his words out with an accompanying laughter. The chitter of his teeth must’ve tickled Jeno as he joined with a laughter of his own. “Let me take you to the station. My house is nearby.” 

“It’s snowing.” 

“The station to my place is a literal three minutes walk, you don’t,-“

His sentence was cut when he felt Jeno’s palm softly cupping his tight jaws. He carefully tilted it, this way and that, so that they could look into each other’s eyes without having to compromise their embrace. 

“Time stops in the snow, Renjun.” He said with a smile so soft they could’ve so easily been mistaken as one of the white flecks floating down from the sky. “Walk the park with me.” 

And soon enough, Renjun learned that they _were_ as soft as the snow. His lips. It was easy for Renjun to take it. He just had to tilt his head upward a little and he had them melting against his. 

Jeno’s lips that were made of snow.

“I can do that.” 

And he could do these. Sweet, innocent, little kisses like these. Nothing to think about but the feel of that smile against his. 

_“I can do that.”_

* * *

  
  
**\- Year 30 -**

**.**

It was nine in the morning. 

Jeno had just finished making his daily coffee brew when he heard the bell to his place buzzing to life. 

His hair was still wet and tangled from the shower, and he was also _still_ wearing his leisure pajama set, not bothering to change as he didn’t expect anyone to show up to his place that early in the day.

But his less than presentable condition didn’t stop Jeno from pettering away across his minute living room space to quickly unlock the flimsy latch from his door. Because there could only be one person standing beyond that thin veil of plywood. Okay, fair. Maybe _two._ But there could only be one person physically capable of being there at that moment in time. 

Renjun.

Rosy cheeked Renjun who embarrassedly handed him a bag full of sweet pastries from a nearby coffee shop, before barging into his temporary apartment without waiting for Jeno’s words of welcome.

Of course he was embarrassed. He was three hours early.

“This _is_ a shit show.” He huffed as he unwound his knitted scarf and draped it on the cheap folding chair. 

“Why would I lie?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. With how your house looks, I was hoping that your standard for _poor accommodation_ is equal to a penthouse.”

Jeno pleasantly smiled through Renjun’s ribbing as he went to pour another cup of coffee for his surprise guest of the morning. He couldn’t help but turn it into a laughter when he set the spread on the table and saw for himself how sad it was.

Mismatched mugs and a chipped melamine plate. Jeno felt like he’s found a way to rewind time and, out of the many choices, decided to land at his first year of university with how poor his cutlery game was. 

“When did you move in, last week?” Renjun too couldn’t contain his laughter, though his sounded more pitying than anything else. 

Jeno shrugged as he took a seat together with a bite from a chocolate danish. “Two months ago.”

Renjun gave out a gesture that seemed to convey his incredulity for Jeno’s living condition. _What’s your excuse for not doing some proper shopping?_

“I’m busy, okay?!” 

Renjun silently rolled his eyes into his cup of coffee. Well, at least Jeno could rest easy knowing that ugly mugs wouldn’t stop Renjun from enjoying his beverage, and Jeno from being a master brewer. The little eyebrow raise Renjun gave to the taste of his first sip was enough to make the cheap, production-line pastry taste like something handmade from a hip patisserie. 

Jeno memorised Renjun’s place from the last time he walked him home and just like what he did some decade or so ago, he gave it a brief visit to drop a snail mail, a hand delivered letter of invitation to spend their allotted time together in his new place. 

_Yoobin is out of town with her highschool friends._ He started by clearing the air. _It’s quite depressing here,_ he then added, _I need a friend to make it more lively._

It was a mere temporary lodging that his work gave to him while he was assigned a role at one of his company’s subsidiaries. One bedroom, a kitchen-living room combo, and a criminally small bathroom. Quite an awful location to be spending their Christmas Eve, he could say. But the idea of spending such a festive day in such a dilapidated place brought a sense of _giddiness_ to Jeno. As in, this could be them. This could be their life twenty or so years ago if only he took a left turn on one of the many crossroads in his life. 

Turns out, Renjun also agreed. He’d also much rather spend their day in a decrepit apartment room than in Jeno’s comfortable house.

“Why?” He asked, when they have then moved from the rickety dining table and onto the thin carpet spread on the floor, also known as Jeno’s working space that only sometimes doubled as a spot for leisure. 

“I nearly planned to skip on today before I clearly read the address you gave me.” Renjun admitted with a forced laughter.

It dimmed into a bitter smile when Jeno repeated his very simple question. 

“Because your house is _yours.”_ He said. Renjun’s gaze flicked around the four corners of the room before stopping at his eyes, seemingly done in an attempt to soothe Jeno’s worry that must be displayed so prominently on his face. “A place like this is like us. An in between.”

Such a miserable comparison. They didn’t deserve that. 

“Are you not mine?”

They were too tired to play coy, weren’t they? Because instead of his usual scoff, or an embarrassed sneer, Renjun gave to his sudden bout of poetism a quiet, shy smile that was only slightly obscured by him hiding it into a sip of his cooled coffee.

“Am I?” Renjun said with his eyes still staring deep into the dark surface of his drink. His tone was playful, and his eyes too, were. When Renjun returned to his gaze, his eyes twinkled with such mischief it brought a grin to Jeno’s previously gloomy face. “Are you?” 

“Only if you’ll buy me lunch.” Jeno said as he gave Renjun a soft nudge with his elbows. 

The bright laughter his action brought to Renjun was enough to make his heart soar. He would do anything to keep the light atmosphere that’s been so comfortably cultivated between them. _Anything._

Yes, even a self-deprecating joke at the cost of his physical well-being.

“Come, let’s get something to eat.” Jeno grunted as he made a show of struggling to get back to his feet. “Maybe sitting on the floor is a bad idea at this point…”

Renjun snickered at Jeno’s perceived weakness, before he then attempted to one-up him by going straight up to his feet from a squat and to be fair, he _did_ make it. But at the same time, there was a mighty popping sound coming from one of his knees that caused the both of them to wince.

“Did it hurt?” Jeno asked after he allowed the weird, second hand tingly pain to pass through him with a hiss. 

“Nah.” Renjun answered, denying his downfall by doing little, funny arm stretches to elevate the mood of the room. But, through all that, the awkward grin that served as a way to mask the pain that must’ve been running laps up and down his left leg was still there as he limped to take his coat and scarf from the plastic chair. 

“I might need to borrow your arm as we walk the street though.”

Jeno had other reasons in mind to make Renjun hold his hand as they stroll down the suburb’s deserted shopping strip on a winter morning. More romantic ones, of course. But in the years that led to that day, he’s learned to heartily take and enjoy what life gave him as it’s being given. 

So he kindly offered Renjun his hand, and less than kindly snickered at him. 

“At our age, we should probably not be so competitive.”

Renjun scoffed in return. “You were the one who said we can never be too old for anything.”

_Touché._

  
  


_

They bought enough food and drinks to survive for a week, and another day on top of it. It was then just a matter of finishing them. So they locked themselves back into the apartment and did just that.

Jeno offered to take him on a mini sightseeing tour after they’ve stuffed their face with their lunch. “To help with our digestion,” he said. 

But with a lazy sigh, Renjun took his drink and ambled the five steps that separated the kitchen from the living room. “I’d rather take a nap.” He groaned as he struggled to get into a sprawling position without spilling anything from his cup. 

Jeno joined him with a tired sigh of his own. With a simple flick of his wrist, he turned on the tiny TV set on top of his fridge. Renjun gave his arm a small tap when he landed on a channel interesting enough to watch but mindless enough to still be ignored, and went to lie his head on Jeno’s shoulder. 

They were nose deep into the second bottle of fancy wine that they both now could more than afford. And with it, a cuddle too became something that they could more than afford. So he did. He bought it with changes to spare. 

Jeno slung his arm around Renjun’s shoulder and pulled him that tiny little bit closer. He watched as those eyes fluttered close in a bliss Renjun didn’t even bother to hide. 

Renjun began to fiddle with the hem of his shirt, and his toes were slipping into the edge of Jeno’s socks, battling with it for a full minute before he managed to pull it off clean from his left foot. To make both their lives easier, Jeno went to pull the other sock with his fingers, who he just now noticed has begun to shiver. Ah, while he was down there, he thought, _off with his too._ Renjun giggled when he did that. It must’ve tickled.

How much did Jeno wish to kiss his toes if it meant he could prolong the sound that Renjun was making. 

“We can be boring together.” When he came back up, Renjun was waiting for him with a peculiar smile etched on his face. His drowsy eyes closed once again when he could return his head on the nook of Jeno’s arms. “That’ll be more than enough…”

Renjun absentmindedly moved his toe against the sole of Jeno’s foot. Seemingly using the monotonous movement to help ease him into a hazy, midday nap. It tickled a sentence out of Jeno. One that he wouldn’t have said otherwise. “Do you not deserve at least some happiness?”

“I wish I do…” _But my happiness is you_ , he silently added. 

Silence, filled with the barely-there sound of a boring nature documentary, served as the perfect bait for a nap, and Jeno found himself slipping away even if originally he was planning to spend the next few minutes memorising a look of Renjun’s face he so rarely seen. 

“I’m so tired of feeling. I want something lame. Something… bland.” In the midst of dimming consciousness and the heavy pull of sleep, Renjun suddenly spoke. His words echoed around him, cycling through him with the feel that it came from somewhere close yet simultaneously was so far away. “You’re perfect for it.” He mumbled in a voice just barely louder than the small volume of the TV program. It was more than enough, though. With how close they were, it was more than enough. 

  
  


Hours blurred together into brief glimpses of light between moments of stuffy slumber. Jeno remembered lips, and a few fingers here and there, caressing his face, arms, tickling him at the back of his ears. Little snapshots of moments that dispersed to nothing but wisps of images the next time darkness reclaimed him. 

He also remembered returning the favour, sometimes, when he could command the movement of his limbs well enough. Pulling Renjun close, letting himself snuggle into his hold. Cornering Renjun against the wall and using his nose to tickle his neck, not stopping until Renjun blubbered in a mess of giggles. 

The clock continued to tick, and as the sun began to travel low to the corner of his apartment’s window, so did more things joined the pile of socks at the corner of the room. Little by little, one piece per moments of lucidity. Sweaters, shirts, pants, watches, necklaces, anything that stood in the path of them wanting to be closer, just that little bit closer to each other. 

“They don’t care about us anymore, do they? Nearly everyone is dead.” He heard Renjun speak when he was helping Jeno shed a piece of his clothing. His voice was quiet, only faintly seeping past the thin fabric of his undershirt, and Jeno knew he was saying it mostly to reassure himself. 

“Tell me this doesn’t matter.” Renjun tidied up his hair when he’s freed of the swathe of fabric, and Jeno found himself melting against his fingers. “I _can_ die tomorrow.” 

“I sure do hope you won’t.” He helped strengthen the desire brewing between them by giving the tips of each of Renjun’s fingers a gentle peck. Comforted him with snuggles and repetitive strokes across his arms until Renjun unravelled in a mumble of _yeses_ and desperate tuggings in an effort to ask for _more_ without having to verbalise it and shame himself even further. 

It was only then that Jeno dared to pull him close, so he could finally give him an early present he’s been saving for so long. 

A kiss that was lazy, and honest, and wistful, and hungry. Renjun hooked his arms around his back the same time when Jeno tangled their legs together into what he hoped would be an inescapable knot. Renjun’s lips tasted of wine and a crisp winter morning. His neck smelled like something he’d learned to forget so long ago. 

His whispers, his pleadings, pierced through the last veil of Jeno’s lethargy and he came about to the image of Renjun sprawled beneath him, one arm covering his eyes as his breath came raggedly through rosy lips that were plump from the kiss he was freshly released from. 

“I haven’t done this in such a long time.” He whispered. And when Jeno went to set his arm away from his face, he found Renjun physically recoiling at his gaze. “You must find me revolting.”

Jeno only smiled at that, giving Renjun’s bony clavicle a loving kiss as he held his hand and guided Renjun down his chest. Which was unkempt, to say the least, with gravity not having shown an ounce of mercy to it. “Do you find _me_ revolting?” 

His voice caught when Jeno gave his belly a playful nip, and a twinkle of laughter followed suit. “I think you’re… magnificent.” 

“Then you know what I find you as.” He gave Renjun a kiss and smiled when he felt the last of his inhibitions flowed through him together with the sound of his sighs. He didn’t object when Jeno helped him up to his feet, only laughing to his neck when Jeno introduced him to his modest bedroom with an apology.

“I would’ve carried you.” He grunted as he carefully lowered Renjun down to the bed. “But I don’t want any bones breaking tonight.” Shivers from the cold blanket mixed in with his giggles and turned it into a generous laughter. 

“Be gentle.” His voice trembled when Jeno went and helped him rid himself from the last arbitrary piece of physical barrier between them. He saw Renjun’s laugh was bitten into a shy smile that he remembered once seeing, when they were doing this exact thing in a memory long forgotten. “Please.” 

“Of course.” Jeno slipped his arms beneath him to spare them from the chills, before going in for a kiss, impatient to capture such an endearing smile away from Renjun’s lips. He nearly wobbled off his feet when Renjun arched his back and wrapped his legs around his waist as a welcoming invitation. His surprised giggles joined Renjun’s delighted ones as he went on to relieve Renjun of his worries. 

_“Of course, love.”_

  
  


_

Jeno was greeted by darkness when he woke up from a slumber he didn’t ever remember taking. In the brief moment of disorientation, he attempted to roll away from his bed but found himself unable to do so from the presence that was weighing down his left side. 

Renjun stirred, and mumbled something indiscernible. _So it wasn’t a dream._ Relieved, Jeno rested his head back onto his pillow. He was about to say his apology for disturbing Renjun from his sleep when he felt a hand against his cheek that silenced him.

“Are you okay?” His whispers were so soft Jeno could’ve easily mistaken it for mere rustlings of his bed sheets. “You were insatiable.”

With more of his consciousness returning to the space behind his eyelids, so did his memories. And with the help of the dull soreness that pulsed from his lower half, Jeno remembered. They switched, once, in the midst of their passion as Jeno wouldn’t stop begging for Renjun to take him in return. 

He plopped a palm against his sticky forehead and weakly chuckled out his embarrassment. “I’m great, I’m… great.” Then, he felt Renjun’s fingers carefully prying his hand away from his face, and those eyes that seeked him as they both tried to acclimate their senses to the night that came all so suddenly. “You were very kind to me.”

Renjun laughed, and it showed so much of his joy Jeno found himself squeezing the hand he was holding that much firmer. 

“Will you come and have dinner with me tomorrow?” _Today,_ he wanted to correct, but he felt Renjun perking up on his spot and Jeno worriedly tried to see if he’d somehow managed to destroy the stone hut they’ve successfully built together with one measly, poorly timed blow.

But Renjun didn’t shy away. He was still staring at Jeno, fighting to keep his smile because he must’ve finally grown tired of running away. “Remember what you said to me once? That night when you were drunk in my old apartment?”

“God don’t remind me…”

“If we exist beyond today, the world ends.” Renjun said as he put more of his weight on Jeno, when he sensed that Jeno was about to roll away in embarrassment. “Do you think that’ll happen?” 

Instead of answering, Jeno leaned in and gave Renjun’s lips a playful nip. “Dear, it’s already tomorrow.” 

It was then that Renjun really did jolt awake. He muttered in panic as he tried to search for his phone, which he won’t find anyway as it was outside, hidden beneath their pile of clothings. It took Jeno three times of calling his name and two times pressing his palm against his cheeks before Renjun mellowed enough to sit back down on the bed. 

He didn’t know what to say to Renjun’s bewildered eyes. His very sense of being was exuding such anxious anticipation. As if he was fearing that the next time he blinked, the fabric of reality itself would unravel and once again pull themselves apart. Like a reset to a game. Back to square one, where they have to journey on for another three years before they could afford to buy one day to spend together.

Renjun’s fingers were trembling on his lap. It felt natural for Jeno to take them up and hold it in a safe grasp. 

“Merry Christmas…?” He said, voice breaking down into an awkward laughter before he finished saying his wish. Jeno was certifiably unsure on how to break the heavy, suspenseful silence between them and decided that filling it with laughter was a way better outcome than for it to be filled with fear. 

“We’re really doing this.” Renjun heaved as he wiped the bud of tears from the corners of his eyes. Tears of gladness, Jeno hoped. He hoped that it was no other than tears of happiness. “Are the usual suspects going to be there?”

If he meant Yoobin and Harin, then yes. Yes of course they will be there.

“I’m scared!” Renjun spoke out loud his fear after he saw Jeno nodding to his question.

“They love you, why not?” 

Renjun pulled away his hands from Jeno’s grasp and used it to muffle his nervous scream by plopping his palms over his face. Renjun looked so unlike their age. Glowing in a sense of discovery and adventure that even youths would envy when he went on to use his palms to hide the blush of his cheeks. Even then, Renjun couldn’t seem to stop himself from giggling out his anxiety and embarrassment for the _idea_ of mingling with the family that he never had. 

Jeno allowed Renjun to simmer in his tension, allowing him to let the feeling sizzle down his limbs like the spark of a firework. Or like bubbles from a fresh can of soda. He would know when Renjun was ready to continue, as when he was, it would be unmistakable. 

Five minutes passed, and his giggles receded into a nice, excited smile on his face. Renjun then showed that he was ready by leaping at him and giving Jeno a bear of a hug.

“God! You make me feel like I’m eighteen again.” He hissed into Jeno’s ears with so much excitement it caused them to ring. Like an infection, he was spreading his joy around the room in a closed loop filled to the brim with brightness. 

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Jeno sighed, contently, as he asked for Renjun to stay where he was just a little longer. Without saying a word. Just fingers slipping into the warmth of his hair and a gentle tug so that he knew Renjun was securely resting against his chest.

"We've wasted so much of our time." His eyes were damp and red when Jeno peeked into them. As if the tears he was shedding were not the ones he usually shed. Like they were imbued with the remains of his long standing pain. Which was good, Jeno found himself thinking. Because he wanted Renjun to flush it out. Shed it all out, no matter how long it might take. So that they could finally live the life they’ve always wanted and wished for, without anything anchoring them to the past. 

“We need it.” Jeno said, slowly turning his hold into small, repeating motions intended to calm them both. “We need the time.” 

“What if I ruined it?” Renjun’s nails dug into his shoulders when he spoke next. “A day is one thing. But more? What if I… what if…” _What if we learn that it’s not like how we’ve always imagined it to be?_

What if they grew to hate each other? What if what they love was not the person, but the loneliness that came from the other not being there? 

Renjun flicked his eyes away and Jeno understood. Because those were _also_ his fears. All of them, and then some. He didn’t have the perfect answer to soothe Renjun then, did he? Maybe not ever. There was only silence and his hold that never faltered. 

He didn’t know what the future held, but he knew one thing for sure.

“Whatever happens, we’ll meet again in three years' time.” 

“How do you know?” Renjun laughed, and it was bitter. But he didn’t object to Jeno guiding him back to his spot on the left side of the bed. “What if we broke the curse by staying past midnight?”

“You know where I live.” Jeno said as he pulled the blanket to comfortably cover their bodies up to their chins. “You know where to find me.”

His thumbs gilded easily across Renjun’s cheeks and he smiled when Renjun gave away the last of his anxiety with a little sigh, as he trusted his safety into the cup of Jeno’s palms. “And you mine.” 

Let sleep reclaim them for one last time that night. Let them wake up, fully, to today shining bright through the small windows at the corner of his bedroom. 

Because their time was no longer owned by the stars. 

They have it now, secure in their own hands. 

Their very own star love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hate this story just as much as i love it ..........
> 
> NOT GON LIE THIS IS ONE OF THE HARDEST STORY FOR ME TO WRITE (can you tell?) Because every word and every sentence I put down just serve as a reminder that _I'm not good enough_ or something like that.
> 
> But honestly tho i'm so glad i wrote this down because it's a story i've been wanting to write for years and years and years and i wouldn't have written it if I didn't have the incentive and the looming terror of a deadline. So thank you!! honestly!
> 
> Miss/Mister prompter I hope you're happy with this convoluted mess of a story ;;; i really do hope you're happy man ;;;
> 
> ps: don't be shy to hit me up on twitter [@moon__soil](https://twitter.com/moon__soil) ~


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